Fi5ve
by Mislav
Summary: As Halloween is approaching, Carlton and Juliet find themselves investigating a bizarre series of murders. Will the investigation bring them closer, and how close will killer get? Eventual Lassiet. Title inspired by one of David Fincher's finest, "Se7en". Big thanks to Loafer, who beta read this story, and has provided me with plenty of helpful tips and good ideas. You're the best!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own any of the "Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.**

 **Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.**

 **I'd really like to thank my really good fanfiction friend, Loafer, who has given me some very helpful suggestions, and also beta-read this chapter. Thank you very much, and happy Halloween!**

 **Halloween themed fanfiction. Lassiet (by the end). Multi-chapter, probably four or five chapters long. Set sometime around season four (first chapter takes place about five days before Halloween). That is all.**

Almost the whole house was ransacked; papers pulled out from the drawers and scattered across the floor, vases and clocks knocked off the cupboards and shelves. The dead body of a young woman was lying on a kitchen floor, in a face-up position, her T-shirt soaked in blood. Carlton and Juliet exchanged a look before observing the body again, then looking over the crime scene one more time, the big unanswered question hanging in the air.

"So, what do you think?", Carlton commented more than asked, turning to face her. Juliet frowned for a moment, then looked over the crime scene again. That was their common tactic during the more... bizarre cases. Try to talk it out. She decided to state the most obvious conclusion first.

"The victim was stabbed multiple times", she said, observing the body. "Could be a crime of passion."

"No murder weapon has been recovered on the scene", Carlton pointed out. "Could have been premditated."

Juliet took one more look around, carefully stepping over some papers scattered over the floor. "The house is ransacked, but all cash and jewelry appear to be intact", she noted. "The killer was probably looking for something, but his motive almost certainly wasn't burglary."

"That sure points to that conclusion", Carlton agreed, nodding his head. He sighed and remained silent for a moment, before finally addressing an elephant in the room. "That and the fact that all the doors and windows were locked from the inside when the body was found", he said under his breath, glaring at the front door and then at the windows around himself.

And that was the problem. The thing that didn't make sense. At all.

Second tactic: question every important (meaning: suspicious) detail. "Emily's mother, Bridget Watkins, who found her body... she is absolutely sure of that?", she asked, though she had already heard pretty much the same thing that Carlton had.

Still, Carlton pulled out his notepad and quickly flipped through the pages, stopping by the middle, where the latest information was written down. "It certainly sounded that way", he pointed out, looking over the entries. "Though, to be fair, she was pretty shaken up, but her statement seemed pretty coherent..." He sighed, then started reading. "She arrived here at three pm, to join her daughter for lunch. A part of their routine. She rang a doorbell a few times, nobody answered. She tried opening the door, it was locked. She tried unlocking the door with a spare key, but couldn't. Something was inside the lock, on the other end. Bridget then looked through the window and saw her daughter's dead body lying face-up on the kitchen floor, covered with blood. She tried opening the window-it was locked too. She took one of the rocks from the yard and broke the glass. She managed to get in, she checked Emily's pulse-there was none. So she called 911, explained the situation the best she could. Bridget then went to the front door and saw that the key was in the lock, from the inside. She unlocked the door. She remembered that Emily's neighbor was a doctor, she thought he might be able to help her, so she ran to the neighboring house, but nobody answered. She ran back into Emily's house and staid there until the police and ambulance arrived. She tried performing CPR, but it didn't work. Paramedics could only pronounce", he concluded with a sigh, before closing the notepad and pocketing it.

Juliet turned toward the front door, Carlton's words echoing in her head. "The key was definitely still in the lock", she concluded. "She said she left it there after unlocking the door. It's still here. I'm sure forensics have photographed this area by now." "The window was broken. From the outside. There are glass shards on the floor. And it is definitely locked. From the inside."

"As well as all other windows", Carlton added. "Including the bathroom window. And the back door." He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Also... do you feel this? There is some strange... odor in here. It is like the house is filled with it."

Juliet grimaced, inhaling shadowy. "Yeah", she agreed. "It kind of smells like... pineapple." She looked around, a concerned look on her face. "Kind of creepy, don't you think?", Juliet couldn't help but comment, her voice almost a hushed whisper. "Real-life locked room mystery", she said, looking around.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure there's a... rational explanation for this", Carlton said, though he didn't seem as confident and convinced as usual.

"That's what the spirits have been telling me!", a high-pitched voice exclaimed, audible approaching them with every second.

Carlton suppressed a cringe as he turned toward the front door, seeing Shawn Spencer bundle into the crime scene, followed by his partner, Gus, who, like Many times before, seemed to be annoyed, tired and somewhat interested in the same time.

"Isn't that an oxymoron?", Carlton couldn't help but comment, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Sorry, Lassie, can't hear you due to all the useful information in my head", Shawn said with a smirk, looking around the crime scene as he did.

"How did you even find out about this investigation so soon?", Juliet couldn't help but ask.

Gus sighed, deciding to explain their path instead of Shawn. "We were returning some files back to the precinct. We came across Buzz, who mentioned you two were just assigned to investigate a murder in some suburb. Shawn soon..." He sighed, suppressing a cringe. ""Saw" the address, and here we are." He frowned. "And what is with this smell of pineapple in this room? I mean, I don't mind it, but the air is kind of heavy in here."

"We're as confused as you are", Juliet admitted.

"Do the spirits ever tell you to shut up?", Carlton asked Shawn, glaring at him.

Spencer closed his eyes, putting his hands on his temples. "Darkness!", he exclaimed. "Despair! Stone-no. Stove!"

"The victim's mother is two rooms away", Carlton hissed, glaring at Spencer. "Just keep it down, OK?"

Shawn took a deep breath, suddenly opening his eyes, then quickly turned to face Carlton, suddenly calm and collected again... almost serious and mature in appearance. "Well, sooner or later, somebody will have to tell her that her daughter committed suicide", he said calmly, looking Carlton in the eyes.

The silence that ensued was as tense as it was awkward. Carlton just stared Back at Shawn. Juliet kept looking at Shawn, then Gus, then Carlton, then back at Shawn again, part of her wondering was all that just some elaborate bad joke. "What?", Carlton finally objected, a disgusted look on his face.

Shawn didn't miss a beat. "She ransacked her own house, then went to the kitchen and stabbed herself in the chest four..." He frowned, silent for a moment, as he observed the body. "Five times", he continued, turning to face Carlton again. "Probably with a switchblade. She then lay down on the floor, closed the switchblade, to avoid leaving a blood trail, pushed it under the near by stove and, as a final act of her master deception, died", Shawn concluded with an obnoxious sigh, before making a small bow for the "audience".

Dozens of insults and rebuttals floated around Carlton's mind, but he eventually decided to go with the most honest and justified one. "You're insane."

Shawn, like usual, didn't seem too affected. "That's easy enough to check", he replied. "Somebody check under the stove, please!", he called out, looking around.

All three forensic techs looked up. Carlton sighed, turned to face them, and, despite his dissatisfaction, nodded his head as a sign of approval. One of the techs walked over to the stove, crouched next to it, took a look under it, snapped a photograph, then carefully reached under it, and soon pulled out... a switchblade. Closed, but with a few small but visible blood stains with on a handle.

"This doesn't prove anything!", Carlton mantained. "The killer could have dropped it here."

Shawn shrugged, a smug look on his face. "I guess we'll just have to wait for forensics to process the switchblade for fingerprints then."

"People don't commit suicide on a whim", Juliet pointed out, before heading toward the near by bathroom. "If you want to know what kind of life they had been leading, inspect their bathroom cabinet", she exclaimed enthusiastically. As she headed into the bathroom, Juliet felt like she actually hoped she wouldn't find anything suspicious. Though Shawn's suicide theory, as bizarre as it was, seemed like an only rational explanation at this point, something about it seemed... off putting to her. Or maybe it was the way it was presented...

Carlton followed her into the bathroom, closely followed by Shawn and Gus. Juliet opened the bathroom cabinet above the sink, revealing four orange pill bottles at the bottom. She picked up one of them, took a closer look at the label, and read the description.

"Antidepressants. Prescription..."

Shawn grinned. Carlton groaned. "Lots of people...", he started, then scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He observed the bottles for a few moments, ignoring Shawn's smug face, before turning towards him, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "You expect me to believe that this poor woman went through all this trouble in order to disguise her suicide as murder, but didn't even bother to stage a break in?", he pointed out. "Not even that, but she happened to leave all the doors and Windows locked from the inside? With the key left in the front door lock? How does that make sense?"

"You... don't touch anything. Stay quiet. Me and O'Hara are going to question the victim's mother."

They walked into the living room, Carlton making sure to look over his shoulder every now and then. Thankfully, Shawn wasn't following them.

Bridget Watkins was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes were reddish and watery, her face pale. Carlton and Juliet sat down on a sofa slowly, carefully, like they were afraid that any loud sound could unnerve her even more. As Carlton pulled out his notepad and a pen, Juliet gulped, then looked Bridget in the eyes.

"Ms. Watkins... can we ask you a few questions?", she asked softly.

"Sure. Whatever you need to..." She sighed, shivering. "Catch whoever did that to my daughter", she whispered, wiping away her tears.

"Do you know if your daughter had any enemies?", Juliet asked softly, looking Bridget in the eyes. "Was there anyone who would want to hurt her?"

Bridget shook her head, choking back a sob. "No", she whispered. "She never mentioned anything like that. I never noticed any... signs either."

"Did your daughter seem worried or stressed out in the days leading up to her death? Did you notice any strange cars parked around her neighborhood?", Juliet inquired.

Bridget shook her head, gasping before she managed to answer. "No. I'm telling you, this all seems so... senseless. Almost surreal."

"How was your daughter, exactly?", Carlton asked gently, then quickly worded his question a bit better. "I mean, what was her life like?"

Bridget shrugged, a small, sad smile on her lips. "She was a good girl. A bit shy, withdrawn though. She mostly worked at home. She was a website designer. She also volunteered at a local youth center." Bridget sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment. "She... she suffered from depression. But she was taking medication, going to therapy... she was doing much better. She... she attempted suicide a year ago. Slit her wrists. I made her seek professional help."

Carlton and Juliet exchanged a look. Though the house was enveloped in silence, he could swear that he felt Shawn chuckling a few rooms away.

#

There wasn't much that could have been done at the crime scene by that point. Half an hour later, Carlton and Juliet were on their way back to the precinct, although only after Carlton made sure that Shawn and Gus left the scene.

"No way", Carlton said, for the third time during the ride, gripping at the steering wheel tightly.

Juliet sighed. "Come on, Carlton. Get it all out."

Like he had been waiting for her approval, Carlton immediately continued with his criticism. "There is no way that somebody would go through all that trouble to make suicide look like murder, and leave all the doors and windows locked from the inside."

"But if all the doors and windows were locked from the inside, how did the killer flee?", Juliet asked.

"That is what we have to figure out", Carlton responded, almost immediately. He groaned, turning his attention back to the road. "If anyone believes us after Shawn did his... crap vision psychic thing", he couldn't help but add.

He had certain doubts about continuing his criticism, but he couldn't help himself. "I mean... Sorry, but I'm not buying it", he admitted. "Spirits? Visions? Psychic powers? He must have noticed that there were no defense wounds on victim's hands and forearms, and that her hands were stained with blood, so he came up with the suicide theory. As for the stove, it was the only possible hiding place closest to the body."

Juliet didn't react much. She mostly just kept looking through the passenger side window, silent the whole time. Still, age said: "Be that as it may... we will have to find enough evidence to discredit that theory. And that may not be easy."

Carlton sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and remorse. He felt he didn't have to break that illusion, that certainly seemed alluring and even desirable to many people (though definitely not him). But he couldn't handle an obvious murder victim being blamed for her own murder, and he didn't want his partner to believe that scam anymore. He felt she deserved better; their job was hard enough without any fake psychic making it more complicated by claiming he had visions about the case and was pretty much never wrong. To be fair, he often was right in the end, but Carlton knew that Shawn was often wrong until he reached a final conclusion, and that he'd rarely do an actual police work. To be fair, he had a feeling that Juliet mostly knew that, but he just felt a need to remind her... and, maybe, make it absolutely clear that he felt the same, and that it was OK to doubt... or call out people on their bs, even if those clowns happened to be right a few times.

"Forensics will still process the scene", Juliet reasoned. "The autopsy will be performed. We can still look into forensic and autopsy reports. And we can still check Emily Watkins' phone and email records. If she was murdered, there very well might be a clue somewhere in there." She sighed, shifting in her seat. "And if we don't, well..."

Carlton grimaced, taking a turn to the right. "... we'll have to focus on other cases. "Actual" crimes."

#

Twenty minutes later, they were back at the precinct. Thankfully, neither Shawn nor Gus were there. It took Carlton and Juliet over an hour to contact the phone company, explain the matter, obtain the phone records (dating two months back), print them out, and sort them out.

"OK", Juliet exclaimed, giving one file to Carlton while keeping the other one. "Let's start from the end. The latest phone calls and text messages received shortly before the... murder. We should probably start with cellphone records. Not many people use a landline these days. Let's start. We'll split. First half to me, the other to you."

And half an hour to flip through them and get a general idea of Emily Watkins' social life.

"OK", Carlton exclaimed, looking up from his file. "Most of the outcoming and incoming calls seem to be from Emily's mother. The last call she received was also from her. Today, at around ten am. It lasted for two minutes."

"Same with the text messages", Juliet agreed, nodding her head. "Mostly from and to her mother. Usual, normal stuff. "How are you doing?", "How's work?", "Are you taking your meds?", stuff like that. Emily's responses: "Yeah", "OK", "Don't worry about it..."" She frowned, taking a close look at the first page. "Except for this text message, the last one received, today, at around one pm. That is about an hour prior to the murder. Unlisted number, no reply, and it is just... weird."

She walked over to Carlton's desk, the first page in her hand, and showed him the text at the top. "Look, I'm coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what they have done."

"This is a verse from "The Revelation"", Carlton exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Juliet looked at him, both surprise and fascination written on her face. "The Bible?"

"Yes", Carlton confirmed, rubbing his forehead. "The final book of the Bible. It describes the eventual apocalypse, the Doomsday... the end of the world."

Juliet stared at that page again, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "This is really creepy", she nearly whispered, feeling shivers run down her back.

"It is peculiar. Suspicious. But nothing more."

Juliet looked back down at the phone records, trying to sort out her thoughts. From the very beginning, she had an... odd feeling about this case. Like there was something particularly sinister, almost inexplicable, about it. But Carlton maintained that there was a rational explanation behind all that, which also strongly reasonated with her. Not just because she knew she had to think logically, but because she felt that he was on the right track. And it is almost like his made her feel... more comfortable about the whole thing. He was a good detective, and her partner; if he said that there was a rational explanation for this whole mess, there must be one, and as long as they work on this together and have each other's back, nothing too bad can happen to them.

Of course, Shawn's theory about suicide was quite a rational explanation, all things considered (though the text message didn't really fit there, but, to be fair, she really had no idea what to make of it, and it seemed that Carlton really didn't have any explanation either, though he was thinking hard about that bizarre-bizarre, mysterious, creepy-detail). But that, too, didn't really sit well with her. But, even if she and Carlton were to reach the same conclusion, at least they'd do that through an actual police work, rather than... psychic powers? She thought back at Carlton's theory about Shawn's "visions", and shuddered. That, too, was an odd feeling, like she wanted to believe both claims at the same time. Feeling uncomfortable by that train of thought, she said the first case-related thing that came to her mind.

"Especially considering that Emily was an atheist."

Carlton frowned, looking up at her. "How do you know that?"

"I saw Christopher Hitchens' books on a bookcase in her living room", she explained, shifting in her seat. "You think that the murder may be, what, religiously motivated? A work of a moral vigilante or something?"

Carlton sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Well, those two particular verses from "The Revelation" refer to "unbelievers" and "blasphemous". So, it is possible that Emily's beliefs-well, a lack of thereof-and lifestyle were what made her the target of this particular murderer."

"The murderer who managed to flee the crime scene and leave all the doors and windows locked from the inside", Juliet couldn't help but add, her voice a bit lower, almost as a dramatic effect.

She and Carlton locked eyes. Eventually, he looked away and picked up his phone. "I'm going to call our technical analysts", he said, dialing the number. "Tell them to check this cellphone number. Identify a licenced owner, trace a signal..."

Two rings. Then, an answer. "Hello? Yes. Detective Carlton Lassiter speaking. I need you to look into a cellphone number. Identify the owner, track the signal. The number is." Short silence. Carlton sighed, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I'll hold."

He frowned, staring at the phone records on his desk as he waited for the answer. "What do you think... why were there no defense wounds on Emily Watkins' body?"

"She could have been drugged", Carlton pointed out. "Or the killer knocked her unconsciousness. I guess the autopsy will show."

"Interesting how we get assigned to investigate such a... weird case few days before Halloween, huh?", Juliet commented, a coy smile on her lips.

Carlton scoffed. "Interesting or ironic?"

Finally, thete was a voice from the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Short silence. A disappointed look soon appeared on his face. "A burner phone? No registered owner? And the signal doesn't pin anymore? It mist be broken or turned off." Carlton sighed, rubbing his eyes. "OK. Check phone records and the signal records. Yes, I'll wait. Thank you."

Carlton sighed, phone still in his hand, and took a sip of coffee. This time, it was Juliet's turn to ask a question. "Why do you think the killer sent that message to Emily?", she wondered, clasping her hands.

Carlton was silent for a few moments, going through the possible explanations in his head. "Maybe a taunt", he suggested. "Or a message to us. Or a part of his... twisted moral code. A sign. The last chance for Emily. A warning. Telling her to find faith. She didn't reply, so she deserved to die."

"If he knew her cellphone number and an address, maybe he also knew her personally."

"That is definitely possible", Carlton confirmed, just when the technical analyst returned with more information.

"No other calls or text messages had been sent from or received to that number?", Carlton exclaimed more than asked, listening to the report carefully. "And it last pinned in the neighborhood where Emily lived, about an hour before the murder? In fact, all signal records originate from there? OK, thank you. But watch out for the signal, in case the phone is turned back on. Though I doubt that will happen." He sighed and hung up.

"What about the place the burner was purchased from?", Juliet asked.

Carlton shook his head. "No records of that. Many stores, especially small, family-owned ones, don't even list such minor purchases or distributions. Not even phone factories and companies can keep track of every burner that makes it to the market."

Juliet sighed, glancing at the clock on Carlton's desk before gazing through the near by window. It was five pm, and dusk was already present on unusually cloudy Santa Barbara sky, slowly morphing into a dark autumn night. She felt that odd feeling again... a particular unease, discomfort, almost like a bad premonition.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I don't own any of the "Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.**

 **Really sorry about the delay, I've been pretty busy. I hope you like this chapter! Once again, big thanks to Loafer, who beta read it and made some helpful suggestions! You're the best!**

The morning, however, came relatively quickly; it was a new day, apparently without any sign of disturbing events that took place yesterday. For most of the people, at least. For Carlton and Juliet, the next morning meant continuing the investigation-starting with the autopsy report.

Carlton grimaced as he observed Emily's body, lying on the autopsy table. Woody took another look over the body before handing the autopsy report to Carlton.

"There isn't much to tell, unfortunately", Woody explained, as Carlton and Juliet began going through the report. "The cause of death is a massive blood loss due to multiple stab wounds to the chest area. She died within two or three minutes. The switchblade found under the stove matches her injuries; the size and shape of the blade is consistent with the stab wounds." He quickly reached for several items on the near by desk and enthusiastically showed them to Carlton and Juliet, positioning them next to each other. "Look, I even made some casts", he exclaimed.

They just nodded their heads. Woody sighed, realizing that they were not likely to share his fascination, and put the casts back down on the near by desk before continuing his summation. "No other injuries, not even defense wounds on her hands and forearms. No signs of a sexual assault, nothing under her fingernails. Tox screen revealed small traces of antidepressant, but nothing else. No other medication, alcohol, drugs or toxins. However, I recovered this scar on her left wrist. An evidence of a prior suicide attempt."

"Do you think her wounds might have been self-inflicted?", Juliet finally asked, feeling a strange... annoyance while asking that.

Woody grinned. "I knew you'd ask me that."

Juliet sighed. "Of course you did", she couldn't help but reply.

"Shawn dropped by an hour ago and asked me the same thing", Woody exclaimed, his grin widening.

Carlton groaned, looking away for a moment. "Of course he did."

Woody continued his summation, trying to appear serious again. "Well, like I said, there are no defense wounds, no signs of restraining either", he explained. "And her hands are stained with blood, both the inner and the outer side. That definitely points to the suicide theory. Unfortunately, blood on her hands is too smeared for a conclusive blood splatter analysis. And wounds don't reveal much. They are too random and deep for me to determine the exact angle. They could have been self inflicted, but they could have also been inflicted by somebody else. I personally doubt that somebody of Emily's size and build could have inflicted such deep stab wounds. But, taking in the account the lack of defense wounds and other injuries, clean tox screen and literal blood on her hands..."

"We get it", Carlton said. "But could she have been knocked unconsciousness or restrained without... well... any visible marks being left on her body?"

Woody frowned before taking another look at the body. "Well, some drugs disappear from the system quite quickly", he pointed out. "Some are pretty difficult to detect, even with a full tox screen. Some fit both descriptions. And a precise karate chop to the neck could have knocked her unconscious without leaving a serious injury or even a bruise. Medical binds are soft but efficient. They can be used to successfully bind someone while leaving little to no trace." He sighed. "But the position of the stab wounds, and the blood splatters that I've seen on the crime scene photographs, suggest that the victim was standing up when she saw stabbed."

Juliet leaned over, taking a closer look at the victim's hands. "The inner side of her hands... there is no "empty space", she noted before looking up.

"Yes, I noticed", Woody started, but Juliet felt a need to finish her summation before hearing his explanation.

"I read about that; heck, I've seen it", she explained, feeling something like a rush of energy wash over her. "When somebody is holding the knife, and stabs someone, the blood splatters over his or her hand, the inner side included. But part of it ends up on the blade. So there is a visible "empty space" inside the palm, that isn't stained with blood. There is no such thing here."

"Well, from what I've heard, there were traces of blood on the handle of the switchblade, that was found under the stove. And if she committed suicide, she must have pushed the switchblade under the stove herself. Maybe she smeared some more blood over the inner side of her hand while handing the weapon."

"All right", Carlton replied, nodding his head. "Thank you." He remained silent for a moment, reconsidering his idea, but he eventually decided that it couldn't hurt. "Still, look for any possible injection marks, including... unusual places. Armpits, navel, between the toes... also, swab the inside of her mouth, and take tissue samples from her lips, wrists and ankles, put them up for analysis. You never know..."

"OK", Woody agreed, nodding his head.

Carlton and Juliet left the morgue. They both felt they needed to discuss the recent developments, but they weren't sure how to start. Just when Juliet was about to bring up a certain detail, they were approached by a young officer. "There's been a murder."

#

The alleyway was narrow and quite dirty, with cracked brick walls and trash in almost every corner. Carlton and Juliet frowned, trying to ignore unpleasant odors, as they crossed the crime scene tape, following Buzz McNab to the dead body by the end of the alleyway, near a dumpster.

"A garbage man found her an hour ago, in this alleyway, near the dumpster", Buzz explained, an uneasy look on his face. Carlton and Juliet followed him under the crime scene tape and into the alleyway. Nude dead body of a young woman was positioned sitting up on the asphalt, leaned with her back against the alley wall. Her face and chest were covered with vicious stab wounds. M.E. was crouched next to the body, studying it closely, occasionally taking a photograph.

"Brutal", Carlton couldn't help but comment, the sight making him shiver. Juliet took a deep breath and looked away from a moment, feeling her stomach cramp at the gruesome sight. The odor wasn't much better either.

"Most definitely", the M.E. agreed, briefly looking up at Carlton and Juliet before continuing his examination. "Twenty deep stab wounds over her face, chest and arms."

"No clothing, IDs or personal items have been recovered on the scene", Buzz noted. "Forensics are still processing the scene, of course."

Carlton frowned, taking a closer look at the body, cringing at the foul scent. "Needle marks on her forearm", he noted. "Signs of malnutrition. Lots of lipstick and nail polish. She was likely a drug addict, possibly a prostitute."

"Seeing this neighborhood, I'm not that surprised", Juliet agreed, looking around.

"Judging by the lividity and rigor mortis, she has been dead for about a week", the M.E. informed them, securing the victim's hands with evidence bags.

"And nobody found her until now?", Juliet wondered.

Carlton sighed. "Left in an isolated alleyway, in a bad neighborhood... it wouldn't surprise me, really. Though I'm sure somebody found her before... but nobody called it in by now."

"Unless she was murdered and then transported to here-a secondary crime scene!"

Carlton barely suppressed a loud groan as the annoyingly chipper voice echoed throughout the dirty alleyway. He turned around slowly, clenching his fists as ge saw always enthusiastic Shawn Spencer and his much less cheery friend, Gus, approach them.

"What brings you here?", Carlton asked, doing his best to sound relatively calm. Still, he felt his next sentence was warranted. "If you say "spirits", I may be forced to use... force", he warned him, putting his hand on the gun holster.

Shawn took a deep breath, looking around. "I immediately felt a certain... negative energy about this location", he mused, already smirking. "It has been very... telling."

"Well, this woman was brutally murdered...", Juliet found herself commenting, looking at Shawn and then back at the victim's corpse. "Just saying", she elaborated, feeling three pairs of eyes on her. "Is there a point to actually "feeling" the negative energy here?"

"That still doesn't explain how you got to here in the first place", Carlton pointed out, reluctantly letting go off his gun.

Gus sighed, an annoyed look on his face. "Police scanner", he explained. "This time, I was firmly against..."

Carlton rolled his eyes, before pulling two pairs of latex gloves and booties from his pocket, throwing one at Shawn and the other at Gus. "Wear this. And still refrain from touching anything."

"Maybe we should send a patrol over here, have them pick up prostitutes and homeless people who hang around near the crime scene. I'm sure there are some in this neighborhood."

"During the day? I don't think so. Some homeless people, maybe, but prostitutes? I doubt it. During the night, though..."

"The body is in a pretty bad condition. Do you think her fingerprints are clear enough for the identification?"

"Even if they aren't, there is still DNA. And I'd bet that her DNA profile is in CODIS."

"Yeah..."

"Something wrong?"

"No, just... are you feeling this? The same... odor like yesterday, at Emily Watkins' house. A pineapple."

"It is heavily buried under the scent of cigarettes, beer and urine, but yes, I can smell that too." "Must be a coincidence. A strange, annoying, foul couincidence."

The end of Carlton's comment was followed by a high pitched sound coming from a feet away. He groaned, turning in that direction. Shawn was standing near the body, hands pressed against his temples, his eyes closed. His mouth, however, was opened.

"Flour! Pastry! Milk! Eggs even! Huge doughnut of doom!", Shawn cried before bracing himself for the reveal. "A baker!", he exclaimed, opening his eyes as he took a deep breath and removed his hands from his head. "A vile predator who has taken the life of this... unidentified woman works as a baker." He widened his eyes, closing his mouth for a moment. "And he drives a mini van."

"Should I be looking into that?", Buzz asked, confused.

Carlton, despite his annoyance, just nodded his head. Juliet, meanwhile, waited for Shawn and Gus to move away from the body, before crouching next to it and looking around, like she was trying to pinpoint a certain location. Carlton frowned, taken aback by her actions, though he didn't question them either.

"Is it just me... or does this body appear to be posed?", Juliet wondered, looking at the other end of the street.

Carlton frowned. "Posed?"

Juliet shifted in her spot a little, observing her surroundings carefully. "Yeah, like somebody intentionally positioned it to face something, to look at something", she pondered, almost squirming against the wall. "See, leaned against the wall, head laid to the left side... This brick wall on the other end of the street?", she pretty much questioned, frowning.

Carlton looked at her, before observing that wall again. "Let's inspect it", he decided before turning around and heading over there. Juliet stood up and followed him.

It didn't take them long to notice a big, black graditi written on the center of the wall, in black, capital letters. Carlton read it aloud, silently, like he couldn't believe what he saw.

"But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and the liars-they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death."

"Sounds like a Bible verse", Juliet whispered. "Another one."

"And this one, too, is from "The Revelation"." All the letters are still pretty clear...And clean. And some appear to be written over some older, smaller graffitis and cracks. This graffiti must have been written recently."

What followed was a tense silence. It lasted for half a minute, before being interrupted by a high-pitched squeal coming from near by. Juliet gasped silently, already reaching for her gun; Carlton actually pulled out his gun, but he quickly realized that the source of the unexpected sound was Gus, who was standing next to them, his eyes wide with terror.

"Guster!", Carlton hissed, holstering his weapon. "Since when did you start sneaking up on people?"

"Don't change the subject!", Gus muttered, drops of sweat appearing on his forehead. He visibly shuddered as he turned toward the near by wall again. "What is this?", he whispered, tremors evident in his voice.

Carlton shrugged, not in a mood to try explaining something that he could barely make sense of himself. "A graffiti", he simply said, trying to sound calm.

"A Bible verse from "The Revelation"? A book about the end of the world?" "And you two act like this isn't the first time you encountered... this... in a murder case?" "God."

Juliet tried to reason with him. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

Gus looked her in the eyes, lowering his voice for a dramatic effect. "Or maybe it means everything."

Carlton glared at him. "Do you really want to share this with Shawn?"

Gus scoffed. "After his relentless mockery over my perfectly justified... healthy respect for mummies? Of course not!" He frowned. "Though it might be a good lead..."

Carlton let out a frustrated sigh. "Isn't he a psychic? Why does he need leads like this? Won't the spirits contact him eventually?"

"Come to think about it, why does he need to visit the crime scenes at all?", Juliet wondered aloud, almost surprising herself. "Can he only communicate with spirits on the location where they... got separated from their body? And how long do the spirits hang around such places? Plus, we already established that this is a secondary crime scene."

"Nice. You're on a roll today."

"Still, I think I deserve at least some input", Gus objected.

"Don't worry, Gus", Carlton said in a sarcastic assurance. "If there is a crazy serial killer on the loose, or the end of the world really is near, you'll be the first we'll inform."

"Thank you", Gus replied, before taking a look around and lowering his voice again. "By the way... did you smell the same thing in that alley?"

"Yeah, the pineapple."

"Wasn't the same odor present at that murder scene yesterday?", Gus questioned.

"Thanks to your friend, it is "suicide scene" until proven otherwise", Carlton reninded him. "And yes, it was. What are you getting at?"

Gus remained silent for a few moments, mantaining an eye contact with Carlton, before finally letting the matter drop. "Nothing", he whispered before turning around and walking away.

#

Almost immediately after they returned to the precinct, Carlton and Juliet found themselves in chief Vick's office, sitting at the other side of her table next to each other, facing her. Karen quickly finished going through the crime scene photographs, then she looked up at them, obviously waiting for one of them to follow up their theory with some additional information.

"You can't deny that this... verses are peculiar, to say at least", Juliet pointed out, somewhat timidly.

"It is strange, yes, but so far, there is no link between the two victims", Karen pointed out. "And, unless I've been informed otherwise, our working theory is still that the death of Emily Watkins was suicide, correct?", she questioned.

"Yes, but we are still looking into other possibilities", Carlton explained.

Karen frowned. "Is it true that there were no defense wounds on her body?"

Carlton nodded his head, withholding a sigh. "Yes."

"And that all the doors and windows were locked from the inside when the body was found?"

"Yes", Juliet confirmed.

"And that she was diagnosed with depression after attempting suicide a year ago?", Karen asked, looking at Juliet and then back at Carlton.

Carlton couldn't help but groan silently, shifting in his seat. "Yes", he confirmed. "But there are still plenty of suspicious details in that case as well. The verse from "Revelation" being one of them."

"From what I've read so far, the murder weapon doesn't match either. M.E. linked Emily Watkins' injuries to the bloody switchblade found in her home. We have to wait for the autopsy to know for sure, but the coroner estimates that Jane Doe was murdered with a much bigger knife, probably a hunting knife."

Carlton sighed. "So, you're saying that we can't even look into the possibility that this two murders..."

"Deaths", Karen corrected him.

Carlton took a deep breath before finishing his sentence. "... are connected?"

"You can", Karen said. "By all means, look into every possibility there is. But, first and foremost, focus on the case that is undoubtedly a murder. And don't make it your main goal to find a connection between the two cases. That could easily cloud your judgement, because you might miss-or, shall I say, dismiss-some potentially useful leads."

"All right", Carlton agreed. "But I highly doubt that this is just a coincidence."

"All right. But now, tell me: are there any leads in Jane Doe murder case?"

"Well, it's still pretty early... but it doesn't seem very promising. No IDs or personal items found on the scene. No security cameras near by. We will send a patrol there at night, which is when most of prostitutes and homeless people usually gather around there. Have them pick up anyone within a mile radius from the crime scene. We will interrogate them in the morning, maybe somebody saw something... maybe."

"And what about Emily Watkins?", Karen asked. "I read the preliminary autopsy report, any other news?"

Carlton sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I just heard from the forensics. They finished processing the murder weapon. They found a few fingerprints on the handle, but they were all too smudged for a comparison. All the blood found on the switchblade matches to Emily herself. It will take them a few days to finish processing the rest of the evidence."

"Well, then you better investigate the leads you've got at the moment", Karen suggested, closing her copy of the file.

Carlton just nodded his head, before heading out of the office, woth Juliet in tow.

#

Carlton sighed as he sat back at his desk, putting the case file on the top of the pile near his computer.

"You can't really blame her", Juliet commented. "The case is pretty thin already, even without the connection between two victims, that we can't positively prove."

"There may not even be a connection between the victims, but I am almost certain that we are looking for the same killer", Carlton pointed out, frowning. "And if there is a lunatic serial killer out there..."

Suddenly, Juliet's face lightened up, realization gleaming in her eyes. She turned to face Carlton, a slight smile on her face. "You know, we won't get the preliminary forensic report until at least three or four hours ago from now, maybe even tomorrow", she reasoned, though her tone of voice still sounded almost playful. "Autopsy also takes time. Chief Vick allowed us to look into the possible connection between the victims-well, cases-though she also advised us to follow "actual leads" first. And since there are no other leads at the moment..."

"... we can start looking for that connection", Carlton concluded, smiling back at her. "Though we have to figure out where to start first", he admitted, sighing. However, that issue didn't stop him for long. He quickly pulled out his notepad, flipped through the pages, and soon found his notes about Emily Watkins' case; her mother's statement, to be exact.

"From what we've learned so far, the only person who was close to Emily Watkins was her mother", Carlton reasoned, skimming through the lines. "So, how about we go through her statement again, see if she revealed something important?" He leaned back in his chair, deciding to read the statement out loud. "Good girl, no enemies, saw nothing suspicious, worked as a website designer... volunteered at a local youth center", he read, a look of realization appearing on his face.

"If she had a social life, it could have been centered there", Juliet concluded.

"There is only one way to find out", Carlton said, standing up and heading toward the exit. Juliet eagerly followed him.

#

Carlton and Juliet spent over an hour talking to the young people that they encountered at the center, both visitors and employees. Nobody provided them with any useful information, none of them appeared suspicious, and most of them provided alibis. Likewise, most of them didn't even know that Emily was murdered until Carlton and Juliet informed them, and, from what they told, they didn't seem to know Emily that well, outside of encountering her at the youth center while she worked, and talking to her from time to time. That lead started to seem like a big, annoying, dead end.

And then they encountered Amy Stanworth, a young woman who worked as a waitress at the adjoining cafeteria. Once Carlton and Juliet broke the news to her (after making sure she stopped working and sat down, just in case), she stared blankly at them for a couple of seconds, then let out a heavy sigh and looked away, tears welling up in her eyes as her face turned pale.

"My God, what happened to Emily is awful...", Amy commented, clasping her hands as she sighed. "I just read about it in the papers thus morning. She was such a nice, polite person..."

"While she volunteered here, did she get into any... arguments, altercations with anyone?", Juliet asked.

Any frowned for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, not that I noticed", she answered.

"Did she seem worried, stressed out in the days leading up to her death?", Juliet asked.

Carlton took a deep breath, bracing himself for the next part of the question. "Or maybe... depressed? Less focused, motivated?", he questioned.

Amy remained silent for a few moments before answering. "No, nothing like that. She seemed... normal. Just like any other day."

"How well did you know her, exactly?", Carlton asked.

"Mostly just work... well, volunteering related", Amy admitted.

"Do you know if she had any enemies?", Juliet asked. "Anyone who would want to hurt her?"

"Not that I know...", Amy answered, shaking her head. A moment later, a look of realization washed over her face, her eyes widening. "She was keeping a diary though", she exclaimed, looking at Juliet and then at Carlton. "Maybe you can find out something useful from that."

"A diary?", Carlton inquired.

"But I have no idea what she had been writing in it, for how long, nor where she kept it. Sorry."

"It's OK", Juliet assured her softly, before pulling out a card from her pocket. "Thank you. Call us if you remember anything that you think could help us with the investigation", she advised her, handing her the card. Amy took a card and pocketed it, nodding her head.

#

The ride to Emily Watkins' house was relatively quiet... almost too quiet. Juliet sighed, looking through the passenger side window. She knew that they should probably hurry, and return to the precinct within an hour. They still had an "actual" murder to investigate.

"So, are you sure that we are looking for a serial killer?", she suddenly asked, still looking through the passenger side window.

Carlton glanced at her, taken aback by her question. "You don't think that the murders are connected?", he inquired.

Juliet bit her lower lip, choosing her next words carefully. "Oh, I think they are connected", she said, clasping her hands. "I am just not sure that the... "killer"... is behind them."

Carlton stared at her for a moment, before sighing and shifting in his seat. "O'Hara, come on", he said, obviously trying to put an end to any discussion of that kind before it could even start.

"Since when are you so religious?", Carlton couldn't resist asking.

Juliet blushed. "I might have done some research last night..."

"O'Hara, let's face it. The world has always been a crappy place. By that logic, it should have ended thousand of times already. Every year, there are more people on this planet. So more bad things tend to happen. I like to think that more good things happen too. But that is nothing new. We've been living in a messed up world from the day one. Or year one, if you wish."

"Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but I still can't shake off these thoughts. I mean, what you said... isn't that the whole point? How much can this planet take? For how long?"

"This planet has seen worse, O'Hara. What about bubonic plague? What about World War One? World War Two? Nuclear weapons? I mean, the time when we actually used them. Right now, we're relatively good. And these murders, just like all those other atrocities, have been committed by a human being. As difficult as that may be to comprehend, sometimes."

"And there are still wars, we still have those weapons, and there are approximately fifty serial killers active every year in USA alone, and there are still tsunamies, and hurracanes, and floats, not to mention the ozon holes, and a global warming..."

"Technically, the world could end tomorrow", Juliet pointed out. "Just like that. Pretty scary, when you think about it."

Carlton nodded his head. "Sure", he agreed. "But thinking like that is pointless."

"If you knew that the world was about to end... what would you do?", she asked silently, like she didn't really want to explore such topics, but coukdn't resist.

Carlton frowned, shifting in his seat. "No offense, O'Hara, but you are acting pretty weird", he objected, paying attention to the road to Emily Watkins' home.

Juliet sighed, tilting her head to the side. "Don't tell me you never thought about that."

Carlton was silent for a few moments before answering. "I'd probably try to find a way to stop it."

"But what if you couldn't stop it?", Juliet wondered.

Carlton shrugged. "I'd probably refuse to accept that, and still try", he claimed. "And I'd drag you along, of course", he added, smiling.

Juliet chuckled. Finally, she wasn't tense-probably the first time today. "Really?"

"Well, it makes sense", Carlton agreed. "If anyone could help me save the world..."

Juliet smiled, feeling herself blush. "Well, if Apocalypse really is about to go down, I'm in. We shall either live past the Doomsday or die trying."

"Sounds like a Bible verse."

#

The house looked pretty much the same it did yesterday-minus the dead body. It was kind of eerie, especially since the crime scene cleaning crew still hadn't been called over, so there was still blood all over the kitchen walls and the floor. Carlton closed and locked the door behind, then exchanged a look with Juliet.

"I'll take the kitchen", he said after a short consideration.

Juliet nodded her head, adjusting latex gloves on her hands. "And I'll take the bedroom", she decided. They both sighed before parting.

Papers on Emily's writing desk. Some receipts, some website information and sketches... nothing else. No personal information, no notebooks buried underneath.

The drawers. Again, just a bunch of papers. And a few pens. And notepads. All blank.

Then the closet. Some T-shirt. All size S. Probably all Emily's. The same with all the jeans, and five shorts, and three jackets, and two coats. All pockets were empty. On the bottoms of the closet was a suitcase, and a backpack. Both empty.

Her underwear drawer contained... well, underwear. Her sock drawer didn't contain any surprises either.

Time to look under the bed.

Juliet crouched next to it, keeping her head down. Indeed, she saw something underneath it... something dark-and big.

Before she could clearly make out what that was, that something-well, "its" hands-reached out and gripped her forearms. Juliet screamed, her heart skipping a beat, shivers running down her back. She stared at her attacker, eyes wide, still unable to discern any recognizable features due to a lack of light, and what looked like a black... overcoat? Her reasoning kicked in within a second: the grip wasn't too hard, so she was still able to reach for her service weapon.

But, in the next moment, the attacker intensified his grip, sending jolts of pain ripping through her muscles. Then he suddenly scrambled out from under the bed and pushed Juliet on the floor, landing on top of her. Finally, she had an opportunity to look him over. The figure was fully dressed in black, wearing what appeared to be ing black coat or even cape, and black pants, his hands being covered with black leather gloves. His face was hidden.

Juliet's heart was thundering against her chest, spasms ripping through her body. She expected some sort of action from him, or at least a sound, but there was none of thar-just muffled, heavy breathing. Still, Juliet found enough strength to regain the movement of her right hand, that she quite quickly moved towards the holster.

Just when Juliet lay her hand on her gun, the figure let go of her, stood up, and started running toward the door. Wasting no time, Juliet pulled out her gun, sat up on the floor, and aimed at the fleeing intruder, just when he was about to reach the door.

"Stop!", she commanded. The intruder, of course, didn't oblige; his hand was already on the door knob. Juliet took a shot. The bullet almost hit the jerk in the shoulder... but it missed by an inch, and ended up in the door instead. The door that her attacker disappeared behind in the next moment-he even made sure to close the door behind.

It took Juliet about two seconds to straighten herself up, and about three to run toward the door and open it, her gun drawn the whole time.

There was nobody there. Nobody in the hallway, nor in the living room. The front door, too, was closed. Juliet frowned, looking through the hallway window. She didn't see anyone outside, on the sidewalk, either.

However, within a second, she heard racing footsteps approach her. She quickly turned around in that direction, keeping the gun pointed at that location; only to see Carlton run towards her, also with the gun in his hands. They locked eyes, both sighing in relief. Still, Carlton made sure to run toward the end of the hallway while keeping aim; then he took a long, hard look through both windows. Finally, he holstered his weapon and approached Juliet, a concerned look on his face.

"What happened?", he asked. "I heard you scream a few seconds ago."

Juliet glared at him. "Few seconds? It was at least half a minute ago!"

"Well, I just heard it." He took a deep breath, looking around. "I guess the acoustics in this place are... strange..."

"What happened?", Carlton asked, worry evident in his voice.

Juliet gulped, her face pale. "I was searching Emily's room, I looked under the bed and... it attacked me."

Carlton frowned. "It?"

Juliet looked around, running a hand through her hair. "A... person in black. With gloves and that mask over his or her face."

"Are you OK?", he asked gently, looking her in the eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"It's all right", Juliet said assuredly, a bit calmer. "Probably just some bruises."

"What happened, exactly?", he asked.

Juliet sighed, replaying the event in her head. "He grabbed my forearms, knocked me down on the floor and just... stared at me. Didn't do anything, didn't say anything..." "Then he just let me go and started running toward the door. I pulled out my gun, ordered him to stop, he didn't... and now he's gone."

Carlton nodded his head, then looked around, trying to hide his confusion. "Must have been really fast", he commented. "Maybe that was the killer. Maybe he, too, was looking for a diary."

"Then why didn't he take the first time he was there?", Juliet asked.

"The front door is locked."

"I'd wager that all the other doors and windows are locked too. From the inside."

"Well, he managed to pull it off the first time around. Why not do it again?"

"But why would he expect to get caught?", Juliet wondered. "And even if he did, how was he able to pull off this... "locked room escape act" so fast?"

"I don't know. We should inform chief Vick, though."

Juliet scoffed. "And tell her what? That I was attacked by some masked figure who pulled out the "locked room mystery", again?"

Carlton furrowed his eyebrows. "Then let's just hope that thr crime scene cleaners won't notice the bullet in the bedroom door", he commented.

Juliet turned toward the bedroom door again, a look of realization appearing on her face. "Speaking about the bedroom... I actually noticed something there", she recalled, heading back into the bedroom the very next moment.

Carlton followed after her. Juliet walked over to the bed. She stood in the center of the room and looked around, carefully stepping on the floorboards around her, listening attentively as she did. "When he pinned me down on the floor... I heard that sound... and felt some... movement...", she explained. "Not on my whole body, the whole floor, though. Just on a small, isolated area..."

Finally, the same feeling, the same sound. Juliet looked down at the floor, smiling despite the circumstances. "This floor boards are a bit loose", she declares before looking up at Carlton, her smile widening. "How about we take a look under them?"

They both got down at their knees and started pulling at those floor boards. They removed them quite easily, all three, revealing a small red notebook at the bottom.

"A diary", Juliet whispered, a look of awe on her face.

Sge quickly picked up the notebook and opened it. Soon, a shocked expression colored her face. Carlton also stared at the front page with eyes wide. After a few seconds of making sure that what she saw was real, Juliet started flipping through the pages, looking for a change or an explanation. Bu she found neither. All five pages were covered with the same sentence, written over and over again: "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own any of the "Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.**

 **Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.**

 **Big thanks to Loafer for beta reading this chapter and offering some really helpful suggestions. You're the best.**

 **I am really sorry about the delay. I've had a lot of work to do and I lost inspiration for a while. But I am back now, so... yay? And posting a new chapter on Valentine's Da! Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and the following ones, that I will probably post soon.**

Juliet sat down at the bed, trying to calm herself down. Carlton carefully observed her for some time, unsure of what to say or do in this kind of situation. Then he took a closer look at the notebook, as if to make sure he was seeing-well, reading-everything right, before closing the notebook and looking up at Juliet again.

She didn't seem bothered by the silence. But still, she was the one to eventually break it. "OK. I..." She sighed, looking away. "I have no idea what to say, honestly."

"There must be a rational explanation", Carlton maintained, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Such as?", Juliet asked. She couldn't tell was she more creeped out or irritated.

Carlton ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room. "OK, uhm...", he sighed, frowning, gears turning in his head. Finally, he focused on the decorations on Emily Watkins' writing desk. He took a deep breath before speaking up. "I see plenty of Halloween decorations", he pointed out, turning to face Juliet. "Recently purchased, it would appear. And Heather volunteered at a youth center. Maybe she had been planning to set up some bizarre Halloween... performance? Show? Plus, her bedroom looks really tidy. Almost... extremely tidy. Even the sock drawer is meticulously organized. We know that she suffered from depression. She could have had OCD too. Maybe this is just some bizarre manifestation of it."

"Seriously?", Juliet objected, glaring at him.

"It is a reasonable assumption", Carlton claimed.

"But, if that is the case, why would she be hiding it underneath the floor boards?", Juliet asked.

Carlton shrugged. "Maybe she was simply very secretive. And careful."

Juliet sighed, looking down at the floor. To be fair, she couldn't really come up with a better explanation; not at the moment, anyway. And she was still too shaken up to really dwell on all of that.

"You sure you're OK?", Carlton ask her, making her snap back to attention. "There is a walk-in clinic a few blocks away."

"So, that is where our investigation seems to be heading."

"If you feel it is necessary. But, actually... there is one more... destination we should pay a visit to. Just in case."

#

Once she and Carlton entered the coty library, Juliet felt both excited and underground in the same time. The strangest feeling. Like she wanted to find answers, but she didn't have enough energy by that point. Plus, neither of them were sure they were actually going to find an answer, and there must have been dozens, maybe even hundreds of books to choose from.

"You know, you can find pretty much any information on the Internet", Juliet commented, doing her best to sound polite and well-intended.

"That is a myth", Carlton insisted, leading her in the very corner of the library. "Besides, my library card is about to expire, I have to renew it", he commented, quickening the pace. "As long as we're here..."

"Hey, libraries are said to be calm, quiet places. Perfect for people who seek solitude, peace. You could use some of that."

Juliet smirked. "Likewise."

"That's why we're both here."

"The city library", he exclaimed. "Dive in", he said, looking over the section, then turning to face Juliet again.

"There are hundreds of books here!", Juliet exclaimed, looking over the shelves.

"Pick one", Carlton suggested. "Or two."

"Are they playing Bach here?", Juliet commented, looking around.

Carlton sighed, sitting down at the desk. "Yeah, I don't get it either."

"You must think I'm so weird."

"Everything about this case is weird", he said, matter of factly. "I guess we have to act weird in order to solve it. You're doing good so far."

Juliet groaned, turning the page over. "It's just... nothing seems to explain this."

"Maybe the answer is here", Carlton suggested, though he didn't seem very enthusiastic.

Juliet sighed. "Maybe."

The case was weird, to say at least. Actually, the better word would be bizarre. Unlike other cases, it made her... question certain things, and doubt herself. She wondered if Carlton felt the same way. If he did, he wasn't really showing it; but maybe it was better that way. He kept her focused; and, in a way, made her feel better. Safe. Giving her hope that there was a rational explanation for this after all, that they will find the person responsible and that everything will be all right.

She barely withheld a groan, feeling that annoyance wash over her again. She was never a big fan of Shawn's antics, even though she appreciated his "ability" (or whatever that was) to solve cases in the end. But in this case, she couldn't stand it. It was just off-putting. Especially Shawn's attitude towards Carlton. Yes, because only an idiot would look at a young woman who had been viciously stabbed to death and not think that she probably committed suicide! She realized that Shawn would rarely talk to her that way, and she wondered why. And did he think she was dumb enough not to notice (or not care) how he treated everyone else but her? Apparently...

Her heart skipped a beat at the sudden discovery, her train of thought finally reaching an impass. She blinked several times and read the text again, making sure that she didn't misunderstand anything. But all the information was pretty clear. She gulped, feeling herself shiver as she looked up at Carlton and spoke out. "Carlton... you... you may wanna check out this chapter", she said before pushing the book over to him, pointing at the paragraph on the middle of the page.

Carlton frowned, noticing her change of demeanor. He read the whole paragraph out loud, even his usually calm tone of voice changing by the end. " _Jerenner_. An ancient demon, described by several of Christian mystics in several texts dating from tenth to fifteenth century. It apparently originates from the jungles, thrives from pagan religious and practices... and is said to reel strongly of pineapple."

Carlton looked up at Juliet as he read the last word, their eyes locking. A moment of tense silence was soon interrupted by a familiar, albeit unusually high-pitched voice emerging from near by, in a failed whisper. "Oh my God..."

Juliet shivered, looking up and instinctively reaching for the book. Carlton sighed, barely controlling his annoyance as he looked up at Guster. Shawn's friend was standing just a feet away, staring blankly at them, his mouth agape, a look of horror on his face.

"Guster", Carlton exclaimed, swallowing a groan. "Here you are... again."

Gus' voice was oddly high-pitched once he spoke up. "That's what it means, doesn't it?", he stated more than asked, glaring at the book that was now back in Juliet's hands. "That... pineapple scent present on the crime scenes, right?"

"That's clearly not what it means."

"But you still think that it might mean that, right?"

"No, I don't", Carlton maintained, giving him a stern glare.

Gus sighed, turning to face Juliet. "Juliet?"

Juliet remained silent for quite some time, desperately trying not to roll her eyes. But she couldn't help but sigh once she spoke up. "I think we should leave", she decided, turning to face Carlton as she closed the book. "We really have to get back to the precinct."

She stood up immediately afterward, followed by Carlton. They quickly put the books back on the shelves and then made their way out of the library, as quickly as possible, doing their best not to make an eye contact with Gus. They both sighed in relief once they exited the library, free at last.

"Can you believe this?", Carlton commented.

"Maybe it's a sign", Juliet replied. Carlton glared at her, but chuckled a moment later.

Juliet smiled back.

Her smile, however, faded away as soon as she spotted Gus running out of the library and following them.

"We have to discuss this", he mantained, as they continued walking away, towards their car.

"Oh, do we?", Carlton said, doing his best to remain calm and reasonable, which was becoming increasingly difficult to accomplish.

"There's just too many coincidences", Gus reasoned, his eyes wide with fear, his face coated with sweat. "That writing on the wall... the pineapple scent..."

Carlton groaned, quickening the pace. "Enough with the pineapple!"

"Look..." "I can tell that you aren't taking me seriously."

"You think?", Carlton snapped.

"But there is a simple way to test my theory", Gus claimed, looking Carlton in the eyes.

"This better be good", Juliet whispered, looking around to make sure nobody could see them, a moment before Gus reached into his pocket... and pulled out a jelly toast, neatly wrapped into a paper napkin.

"Why on Earth are you carrying toast around in the middle of the day?", Carlton asked, clearly irritated..

"Breakfast is important, no matter when you have it", Gus said, matter of factly. "When it is around...", he began, his hands visibly shaking as he unwrapped his snack.

"It?", Carlton exclaimed, frowning.

Gus looked up at him, and an annoyingly long "dramatic" pause ensued, until he spoke up, in a whisper: "The Devil."

Carlton groaned, looking away. Juliet just stared blankly at Gus, and his toast.

"Everything goes wrong", he explained, looking the toast over as to make sure nothing was wrong with it. "People get hurt, the toast lands jellyside down..."

"Well, you showed up again", Carlton couldn't help but add.

Gus took a deep breath as he gazed upon the toast. "Right now", he whispered, his voice weak and shivery. "The moment of truth."

Carlton let out a heavy sigh, seriously contemplating making a run for it. "Dear Lord..."

"Help us", Gus finished, looking up at the sky for a moment.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then threw the toast up in the air. Three pairs of eyes burned through it as it landed.

Jellyside down.

Carlton and Juliet groaned, while Gus let out a high-pitched scream, staring at the toast with eyes wide, standing perfectly still as if he was frozen in place.

In the next moment, Carlton pulled out his gun, aimed at the toast laying on the asphalt, and fired, shooting the ruined pastry right in the center.

Gus screamed and jumped aside, tears filling his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace. Juliet just stared blankly at the events occurring in front of her. For all they were, they weren't unexpected. At least the latest one.

"You feel better now?", Carlton exclaimed, staring daggers at cowering Gus as he reluctantly holstered his gun.

"The jelly side is heavier!", Juliet nearly screamed, furiously kicking the toast aside, making Gus whimper again. "Because there is jelly on it! That is why a piece of toast almost always lands jellyside down! It's called gravity!" She then turned to face Carlton, looking, and sounding, just as furious. "And speaking of laws, I'm pretty sure someone heard that!"

"Which is why we're leaving", Carlton replied, running back to the car, followed by Juliet. "I suggest you leave too, Gus."

#

The next morning started out pretty uneventful. No major leads, no interference from Shawn or Gus, and, most importantly, no reports about a suspicious gunshot near the city library. Carlton and Juliet happened to arrive at work at around the same time, which is also when they both remembered a police patrol was supposed to drive by the crime scene the last night, and pick up any possible witnesses.

Just when they were about to head toward the holding cells, they were approached by Buzz McNab. They figured he wanted to inform them about the whole police canvas from the night before; before they could ask anything, he spoke up, proving them right.

"Police patrols canvased the area last night, just like you ordered", he explained, sounding somehow excited and tired at the same time. "We located ten persons of interests, that are currently staying in our holding cells."

"So, offenders, then", Carlton said, sighing.

"Mostly just prostitutes and homeless people that we arrested for solicitation or public intoxication", Buzz clarified. "You have the honor to interrogate them all... as you usually do, but from what I've heard, they all claim they didn't see or hear anything strange."

"As per usual", Juliet commented, almost rolling her eyes.

"Except for one homeless guy", Buzz said, a knowing look on his face. "We couldn't really make it out, he was pretty incoherent. Got quite aggressive with us too."

"You think he might have been on drugs?", Juliet inquired.

Buzz sighed, a sad look on his face. "More likely a mental illness", he said. "We found an ID in his pocket. William Smith, thirty two. The photograph seems to match. We ran his name through our system. He has been arrested several times for assault and vandalism, and he was also diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. In and out of mental institutions multiple times. His latest stay was just six months ago."

"Sadly, that's often how it goes."

"We had to place him in a separate cell", Buzz warned them. "Our psychologist gave him five milligrams of Haldol. He seems calmer now, but pretty much everyone suggested you'd be better off talking to him from outside the cell."

"We're counting on that", Carlton agreed.

"Only because he's calmer, doesn't mean he'll be reasonable enough", Juliet pointed out. "It could take months of therapy and medication for him to recall what really happened."

"Unfortunately, we probably don't have that much time", Carlton muttered.

Carlton and Juliet exchanged a look before turning around and heading in the direction of the said holding cell. Juliet felt her stomach sink, like she already knew, or at least expected, that their witness was going to reveal yet another unsettling detail, or several disturbing details, about this case. Of course, whether they were true or a product of his mental illness was a different, albeit just as disturbing and complicated, story. Carlton didn't appear especially worried; he looked more annoyed than anything.

William, a thin, brown haired Caucasian man in his early thirties, was sitting down on his bunk, staring blankly at the floor and silently mumbling something to himself, occasionally running his hands through his hair. He didn't even notice Carlton and Juliet approach him at first.

"I saw who killed her!", William exclaimed, his eyes widened, his face coated with sweat.

"You mean, the woman found dead in that alleyway?", Carlton asked gently, looking William in the eyes.

William nodded his head, almost jumping up in his chair. "Yes, her!"

"And when did that happen?", Juliet asked carefully, looking him in the eyes.

William looked surprised, like he didn't expect her to question that information. "Yesterday night", he said, a bit calmer for a moment.

"She was murdered a week ago", Carlton pointed out, trying to sound as calm as possible.

William shook his head, rocking back and forth in his chair. "I know what I saw", he exclaimed, looking away. "And when I saw it."

"OK", Juliet played along, nodding her head. She remained silent for a few moments before continuing. "Who killed her?", she asked carefully, turning to face William again.

William slowly turned towards her, his face now almost completely pale, and expressionless, his eyes wide and his lips dry. "The Devil", he whispered, his eyes burning through Juliet's, sending chills run down her back. His voice was deep and determined, every word dripping with conviction and determination. "Prince of darkness. Master of all evils. Big, red, strong. He was there, he brought that poor woman there, and then he laid his claws upon her, ripped her apart, and left her there."

Then he looked away, staring blankly at the wall, no longer interested in a conversation. It didn't take long for Carlton and Juliet to retreat to the workroom.

#

Carlton glanced at her computer monitor, frowning upon seeing a bunch of online comments on the screen, before taking a sip of coffee and sitting down at his desk.

"New... investigative technique, huh?", he remarked, finding no better way to broach the subject.

"I've been thinking", Juliet explained, scrolling through the comments. "The... the killer wants to send us a message. That is why he, or she, keeps leaving those Bible verses at the crime scenes. So, maybe he, or she, expressed his or her point of view the way any lunatic does these days."

"On the Internet", Carlton added, now understanding her intentions.

"It seems like the killer wants to be heard", Juliet reasoned, groaning as she read some of the comments. "I guess the Internet is the second best. Or maybe it is the other way around. Either way, this could be a solid lead."

"So, you're browsing the web for creepy comments", Carlton said as started up his computer.

"Creepy comments about the murders." She looked up at him. "I could use another hand, you know."

"I'm on it", Carlton assures her, already typing away. "To be fair, I doubt the murders made big news", he said as he clicked on the first online article about the crimes. "Since the information about the verses hasn't been revealed to the press, and the first death hasn't even been classified as murder..."

Juliet sighed, focusing back on the comments. "Yeah, but still..."

They both spent the next few minutes in silence, reading the Internet comments about the murders, occassionally cringing or writing notes, sometimes both. Carlton was the first one to speak up.

"How about this?", he suggested, eyes glued to the computer screen. Juliet quickly stood up, walked over to him, and read the comment at the bottom of the page.

She frowned, reading the comment again. "Sounds like a crazy conspiracy theorist... but probably not our killer", she concluded, disappointment evident in her voice. "I mean, it doesn't really sound like he hates the victims, and there isn't a single mention of religion here."

"Yeah", Carlton agreed, nodding his head. "But we should still check this guy in case we don't find anyone creepier in that abyss of Internet."

Juliet sat back down at her table, and they both continued scrolling through the comments. The silence was longer this time, but Juliet was the one to finally break it.

"OK, how about this: "Good riddance. There's enough hoes on the street already. We need to start getting rid of that garbage. It sounds cruel, but that is just the way things are.""

"Not much religious references, but it sounds close enough", Carlton decided. Juliet nodded her head, clearly sharing his conclusion.

"I'm going to inform our techs, have them track this guy's IP and email address", she decided, pulling out her phone.

So she called them, and explained the situation to them, and provided them with all the necessary information. They said they could likely track the poster down in a few minutes. Then they put her on hold. Leaving her and Carlton in silence again.

"So... do you have any idea... I mean, explanation...", Juliet tried, looking around the workroom like she was either really worried, or she felt really awkward. Possibly both.

Carlton frowned. It took him a few moments to figure out what Juliet was (probably) talking about. "You mean, for that scent of pineapple on both crime scenes?", he asked, trying to suppress his annoyance.

"Yeah", Juliet confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief.

Carlton shrugged. "It could be a coincidence", he suggested. "Or some sort of weird signature, the killer's calling card..."

Juliet scoffed, giving him an odd look. "Bible verses and a pineapple scent?"

"Why not?", Carlton replied. "The guy's obviously off the rails. To him, it probably makes sense. Once we catch him, ask him."

"O'Hara... we are not seriously going to discuss theory, right?", he couldn't help but question, trying to put an end to any supernatural theories once and for all. "Do you want me to bring jelly toast?", he asked, sounding a bit more sarcastic than he intended.

Juliet glared at him. "Every religion is, basically, a belief in something supernatural. The killer we are looking for is clearly religiously motivated."

"There is a difference between trying to get inside the perp's head, and suspecting that something supernatural not only exists, but is behind the murders we are investigating."

Before they could continue their discussion, one of the technical analysts called Juliet back. She did seem relieved once she picked up the phone.

"Hello?", she asked, eagerly awaiting information. Soon, her face lightened up. "Yes, I'm writing it down", she said, taking a note, a smile appearing on her face. Thank you."

Her smile widened as she turned to face Carlton. "It turns out it is not a guy after all", she explained, suddenly feeling quite enthusiastic. "A woman named Anne Heller posted that comment. No criminal record, no history of mental illness. But they ran a full background check on her. She used to work as a social worker. She quit her job back in 2001, and she currently works as a priest."

They locked eyes for a moment, before standing up and heading for the door.

#

As it turned out, Anne Heller lived in a nice suburban neighborhood, in small but pretty home, with white fence, garden and all. Juliet almost laughed out loud upon seeing it; it was so unexpected yet so typical in the same time. Carlton didn't seem as impressed, but Juliet felt that he, probably, had similar thoughts. She did feel some discomfort once they reached the front door, but that didn't stop her from ringing the doorbell.

Anne opened the door relatively quickly, though her lack of enthusiasm was evident. She just gave them a tired, questioning look, without saying anything.

"Ms. Heller?", Carlton asked, looking her over. As far as he could tell, she wasn't armed.

Anne observed the two of them for a while. She appeared quite calm... almost emotionless, disinterested. "Yes, that's me", she confirmed, nodding her head.

"Detective Lassiter, detective O'Hara, SBPD", Carlton said, as he and Juliet flashed their badges. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"About what?", Anne asked them, a bit of annoyance now audible in her voice.

Both Carlton and Juliet remained silent for a moment, thinking their reply over carefully. "Some... comments you have made on the Internet", Juliet explained.

Anne obviously shuddered for a second, but she didn't say-or do-anything in a response. Carlton and Juliet braced themselves at first, thinking that she could try to make a run for it, but it soon became obvious that wasn't the case.

"Can we come in, please?", Carlton asked.

First, silence. Awkward silence. Then a short, calm reply. "Sure."

She stepped aside, allowing them to walk in her house. She didn't even bother closing the door behind; she just turned around and headed into the living room. Juliet glared at her for a moment, confused, then silently closed the door herself as she and Carlton followed after Anne.

Anne sat down on the couch, still appearing quite calm, almost nonchalant. She looked up at Carlton and Juliet as she crossed her legs and shifted on her spot.

"Can we get this over with quickly, please?", she asked, some frustration nevertheless evident in her voice. "I've got a service in an hour."

"You don't seem too worried", Carlton pointed out, pulling out his notepad and a pen.

Anne shrugged. She looked almost smug. "I have no reason to be", she said.

"Well played", Carlton had to admit. "But would you mind explaining us the meaning of this? In case we're taking it out of context." He flipped through his notepad, quickly found the note he had written down, and read: "Good riddance. There's enough hoes on the streets already. We need to start getting rid of that garbage. It sounds cruel, but that is just the way things are."

Anne shrugged. "That is just my opinion", she said, like it was just a quirk she had or something.

"So, it is meant to be taken literally?", Juliet questioned.

Anne scoffed, glaring at Juliet. "I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're asking me."

"Where were you a week ago?", Carlton asked.

"You mean, the whole day?", Anne asked, looking back at him.

"The circumstances surrounding the case make it difficult to determine the exact time of death", Juliet explained, trying to hide her annoyance. "So, yes, the whole day."

"At home. And at the sermon."

"Spreading the Lord's word, huh?", Juliet commented.

Anne glared at Juliet, clenching her fists. For the first time, there was some emotion evident in her facial expression, and her eyes. Anger... and sadness. Regrets. "I was a social worker for ten years", she said, her voice heavy and dark. "And then I just couldn't anymore."

"What does that have to do...", Juliet started, but was cut off by Anne.

"Hookers", Anne said, leaning back in her couch, recollection flashing over her face. "The last one I encountered, while doing my job, the first job... a meth addict. She beat her daughter, six year old daughter, broke both of her arms, both of her legs", Anne explained, her voice raising with anger as she went on. "Then she tried to drown her in a bathtub. I was assigned to the case when the girl was admitted to the hospital, intensive care. I also talked to her mother, after the cops did. She was going through the withdrawal at the time. She didn't give a shit."

"Did the girl survive?", Juliet asked, feeling a lump in her throat, nausea setting in her stomach..

"Yes", Anne confirmed, nodding her head. She appeared to be more solemn than anything. "After months of care. Then we had to place her in foster care."

"And the mother?", Carlton asked, suddenly intrigued by the story.

"She went to prison", Anne said, sounding almost bored by that point. "Two years later, a piece of shit caught a shiv in the slammer and died. Good riddance." She turned to face Carlton and Juliet, a dark look in her eyes. "So, why should I feel any sympathy for lowlives who hurt innocent people because they can't get their act together and stop polluting our society?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not what Jesus would say", Juliet commented, making sure to sound as snarky as possible.

Anne scoffed. "Are you? The Bible is pretty... dark in some parts. Especially the final book." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "To be honest... I think we humans have done too much damage already. To this planet, to each other... the end is probably near. I hope."

"Don't leave town", he said in a stern tone. "Call us if you remember something that you think could help us with the investigation", he advised her, putting his calling card down on her coffee table.

"Screw you", Anne spat out.

"Likewise", Carlton replied, before turning around and walking away. Juliet followed after him.

#

Carlton groaned as he finally closed the case file and put it down on his writing desk. Despite going through it so many times already, he still hoped that there was some kind of a clue, a lead, in all those reports and photographs. Something that he might have missed. But once again, he didn't uncover anything new.

Tedious, sure, but he simply couldn't let this one go. He suspected that this case might be somewhat personal to him. Like, maybe, his best chance to prove Shawn Spencer wrong. Probably because, this time, the two of them had such extremely different theories about the case.

He smiled slightly, suddenly thinking of Juliet. Seeing her openly question Shawn's antics was quite amusing. He figured she must have had her doubts before, but maybe she had finally had enough now. Maybe he also wanted to prove her right. Get her to abandon any trust in psychics once and for all.

He shivered at the sound of his doorbell going off. A late night visit was certainly unexpected, as far as he was concerned... and strangely chilling, almost sinister, all things considered. Not that the killer had any reason to target him... or means of learning his home address... probably...

He ultimately decided against taking his weapon before answering the door, but mostly just because his bedroom was relatively close to the hall, and his Glock was in the bedside drawer. And he did stop about a feet away from the door before leaning over and looking through the peephole.

He was surprised to see Juliet O'Hara standing at his doorway. He was about to ask something, but then he remembered his disdain of talking through the closed door, so he decided to open the door first. It couldn't hurt.

Juliet beamed at him, shifting in place. She seemed kind of uncertain, almost shy, like she herself didn't have a clear idea what was she doing here. But she was the one to speak up first. "Hi... can I come in, please?"

Carlton just stared back at her for several moments, before replying the only way he saw fit at that moment. "Sure."

He stepped aside, allowing Juliet to enter. She took a few cautious steps down the hallway and into the living room, like she was afraid of overstepping her boundaries somewhat. She took a deep breath as Carlton closed the door, then turned to face her. "We have to talk", she exclaimed, blushing slightly. Or maybe it was the dim lights inside the house...

"So, you came at my house, at ten pm, to talk?", Carlton questioned, smirking.

"I'm a delight, it's that simple", Juliet exclaimed, beaming at him.

"Maybe not as simple", he argued, observing her carefully. "You've got an idea, don't you? But, for some reason, you think I won't go along with it if you inform me over the phone, so here you are."

"You don't sound displeased", Juliet pointed out. "I've been thinking. Despite all the... weird circumstances... we mustn't abandon reason. We are looking for a killer. A human being."

"Finally", Carlton exclaimed. "We're getting somewhere."

Juliet shot him a glare, but didn't object. Not out loud, at least. She continued her summation. "And, by all accounts, we are looking for a serial killer. A religiously motivated one, but still... he probably enjoys killing. If for no other reason, then because he feels he's accomplishing his mission."

"So far, there is no other explanation", Carlton concluded, pacing around the living room.

"Yes", Juliet agreed, nodding her head. "He, or she, is a serial killer. And, all of a sudden, it occurred to me..." She paused for a moment, as if for a dramatic effect, before explaining, a slight smile playing in her lips: "Serial killers often revisit the crime scenes, right? To relive their crimes?"

Carlton remained silent for a moment before smiling back. "They do. Not all of them... but they do." His smile then faded a bit, annoyance slowly coloring his features. "But I doubt chief will allow us to pull up extra patrols to cover all those neighborhoods. Especially since this isn't even officially a serial killer case."

"Well, they are covering the area where the second body was found", Juliet pointed out. "Maybe our guy will slip up."

Carlton scoffed, shaking his head. "They are looking for possible witnesses. It is easy to spot them miles away. I doubt anyone is that stupid. Plus, that alleyway was a secondary crime scene."

"Well... we're free for the night", she suggested, her eyes meeting Carlton's.

"Is this a serious suggestion?", Carlton sincerely asked her after a short, albeit heavy silence.

"Do you have a better one?", Juliet retorted, still determined.

Carlton sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We can't cover the whole area either", he pointed out.

"But two patrols are better than one", Juliet replied.

It didn't take long for Carlton to make a final decision. "Your car or mine?", he asked tiredly.

"Yours."

He quickly grabbed his Glock and the car keys, and they headed out into the night together.

#

Juliet sighed, feeling herself shiver as she observed her surroundings. The neighborhood they were currently in was pretty much a slum: buildings with broken windows and paint falling off the walls, covered with crude and often vulgar graffiti; busted street lights, dark alleyways filled with empty beer bottles and rats. But, so far, nobody was out on the streets; nobody suspicious, anyway. They encountered several homeless people, but nobody who seemed to be lingering around the crime scene or displaying suspicious behavior.

There was something especially unsettling about these circumstances, especially after what they experienced (well, mostly what she experienced) in Emily Watkins' home. Just her and Carlton, driving around Santa Barbara late at night, hoping to spot a deranged serial killer.

"There is just no way that he is a psychic. He is messing with us , because he's an ass. I mean, he clearly has some... skills. Noticing clues, putting them all together. He is often right. He could have become an actual detective. But he is so immature and condescending that he'd rather act all special and mysterious while putting everyone else down and having an opportunity to goof around as he pretends to "communicate" with "spirits". And he is clearly insecure. Good detectives may not be very common, but there is certainly a fair share of them. And what about psychics who actually provide clear results most of the time? He doesn't want to be replaceable. So he lies. Lies, lies, lies..."

He stopped, almost ashamed of his rant. He remained silent for a whole minute afterwards, expecting a reply from Juliet. But there was no reply.

"So... you don't disagree?"

"After everything that has happened, I'd rather not believe in anything supernatural."

"Not even on Halloween?"

"It is not Halloween... yet. Plus, Halloween was always kind of... endearing to me. It is scary, I guess... in a campy way. And I support more camp in this world."

Just when their conversation ended, they reached an isolated area, about three miles away from the crime scene, some distance away from the main road and most of the buildings. It looked like a deserted field, situated near some small forest about half a mile away. The visibility wasn't quite clear, but it was obvious that there was a vehicle parked there, at the very end of the lane, near those woods. Carlton frowned, driving further down that path; soon enough, both he and Juliet could make out that the vehicle in question was a white minivan.

"Minivan", Juliet whispered. "That's what Shawn said."

Carlton groaned. Juliet glared at him. "You didn't say he was wrong, you just said he didn't see it in a vision", she hissed.

Carlton sighed, undoing his seatbelt. He pulled out his gun. "Come on", he ordered. "Be careful."

They both got out of the car, slowly closing the doors behind. They observed the minivan again; they saw some shadows, someone appeared to be inside, but they couldn't see or hear anything clearly from that distance. They exchanged a look, as if still working on some unspoken plan, before turning towards the minivan again, and slowly starting to approach it.

They walked slowly, making their best to remain as silent as possible, their eyes focused on the minivan the whole time, as they held their aim. Every step would make them shiver, their hearts beating faster with every move. Once they were within a foot away from the vehicle, they could, sort of, make out the shadows on the back seat. Two figures, who appeared to be... struggling? Rolling around? One was clearly bigger and stronger than the other. And the noise became more clear as well. Groaning. Panting.

Juliet took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Carlton's again. Drops of sweat flustered on his forehead, his grip on the gub tightening. He nodded his head. In the next moment, he pulled the left back door opened, aiming his gun at the people on the back seat, as Juliet did the same from the right side.

"Stop! SBPD!"

"Keep your hands where I can see them! Don't do anything stupid!"

Both people inside the minivan screamed, quickly pulling away from each other... and then, seemingly, pulling on... something. Before he could fully process the situation, Carlton felt something hit him in the head. Not really hard, but not really soft either. He groaned, almost pulling the trigger, but something made him turn on his flashlight first. Still keeping thr aim, he lifted it up and directed the light source inside the minivan. Juliet quickly did the same.

It is then that two people on the back seaat were fully visible; a boy and a girl, probably no order than sixteen or seventeen, frantically pulling at their clothes and gasping for breath, their face flushed and hair a mess. Carlton and Juliet just stared at them for a few moments, like they couldn't believe what just took place. Eventually, they both sighed in frustration, finally realizing the true nature of the situation.

"You didn't even lock the door!", Juliet practically yelled at them as she holstered her gun. "Seriously?"

"Which one of you hit me?", Carlton exclaimed. "You're lucky I didn't..."

He stopped mid sentence, having noticed an object laying on the ground near by. He picked it up and observed it closely. As his luck would have it, it was a pineapple. A rubber pineapple, much smaller than the real one, but still. He felt disgusted when he picked it up, showing it to the girl in contempt. She blushed, looking down at the floor as she quickly put her T-shirt back on.

"Your IDs, please", Juliet said, suddenly feeling quite tired. Or maybe it was just an annoyance.

"Talk about hormones messing with your head. Even with the news about those recent murders, you still drive out to a secluded dark location in order to spoon and smooch on the back seat."

"We had, like, literally no other place to... spoon", the boy muttered, looking away, his cheeks crimson red. "Private place."

"And what murders?", Heather asked, quickly buttoning her jeans.

"You obviously don't follow the news much", he replied, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Anyway, the police is all over this neighborhood for a reason. Go home. Drive safe. Try self control, for once. Don't worry, we won't charge you with the assault charge."

"Thank you, sir."

"Yeah, yeah...", Carlton replied, looking away.

"Should we call it a night?", Juliet suggested rather than asked, barely withholding a smile.

"Most definitely!", Carlton exclaimed, before turning around and heading back to the car. Juliet followed after him.

"That was genuinely terrifying", Juliet commented as they continued walking away.

"Tell me about it", Carlton replied, cringing at the memory of a flying pineapple.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own any of the " Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.**

 **Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.**

 **I apologize for such a late update. I had a writer's block on this story, and I got caught up with other projects. But now I'm back. Here is chapter four; the fifth and final one will follow soon after. I hope you enjoy them. Big thanks to Loafer for beta reading this story and providing me with some really helpful advice! I really appreciate it.**

Juliet woke up a minute before her alarm clock was to go off. She groaned, rolling her eyes. She had to pull up last bits of her strength to lean over and turn the alarm clock off before allowing that annoying sound to crash through her bedroom.

And, apparently, all of her effort was for nothing, because, a minute later, her ringtone went off. She groaned in frustration, now led by pure rage. She sat up in bed and grabbed the phone off her bedside table.

She actually felt better upon seeing his name written over the screen. There was just something nice and comforting about hearing his voice in the morning... since she was awake already, after all. But then she remembered it must have been case related. Most likely. Or maybe... She sighed and answered the call. "Hallo?"

"Good morning." Carlton's voice sounded a bit odd, serious and kind of gentle at the same time. It actually did sound somewhat comforting... pleasant. "Sorry to wake you."

"Good morning, and I am honestly surprised you are awake, and at work already", Juliet said, suppressing a moan as she stretched herself out. "No offense," she quickly added. "It is impressive, in a way."

"How do you know I am at work?" Carlton asked, sounding confused.

Juliet chuckled. "Background noise."

"Anyway... I wish I had some good news, but there's been two more murders."

"Any... notes left at the scene?", Juliet asked in near whisper, as if afraid of what she was about to find out just that.

Carlton groaned. She heard him rummage through the papers. "Not that they mentioned. But again, they didn't notice the first two either."

"I'll be on my way," Juliet said, before kicking the blankets aside and jumping out of the bed.

#

The crime scene was located inside a black SUV parked in a dark passageway, away from most of the buildings-or street lights, even. Dead man and a woman, both in early 30s, were lying on the back seat, next to each other, their face and chest covered with stab wounds, nude bodies coated with blood. M.E. was already inside, examining the bodies and taking photographs. Forensics were searching the area. Buzz was waiting for them near the car, a notepad in his hand.

"Police patrol drove by at around seven am this morning, and spotted the car, with obvious traces of blood," Buzz explained, going through his notes. "They walked over, looked inside and found the victims. Dead on the scene. Forensics haven't recovered any clothing, IDs or personal items on the victims or the crime scenes. They are still canvassing the area though. But it rained heavily this morning between four and five am. Chances are, most of the evidence has been washed away."

"Both victims were killed last night-well, early this morning, actually," the M.E. informed them, briefly looking up from the corpses. "Probably between one and three am, judging by the liver temperature."

"I contacted the DMV, had them run the license plate number through their computer system", Buzz chimmed in, flipping through his notepad. "The SUV is registered to thirty two years old. They texted me his latest driver's license photograph. It is kinda difficult to discern due to, uhm, all the bruises and stab wounds, but this looks like our male victim. Still no idea about the girl, though."

"You will know the official cause of death after the autopsy, but I think it is pretty obvious," the M.E. said, securing the victim's hands with evidence bags. "Extingunation due to multiple stab wounds to the face and chest." He leaned over, pointing at the marks on victim's wrists and mouth. "Judging by these bruises on their wrists and around their mouth, fresh bruises over their bodies, and a lack of defense wounds, they had both been bound, gagged, viciously beaten, and then stabbed to death."

Juliet leaned over, taking a close look at the female victim. "Marks on her ankles and thighs... most likely from wearing stockings and high heels, it looks like," she concluded, studying all the bruises carefully. She frowned, taking a closer look at the victim's hands and face. "Heavy lipstick and eyeliner... looks pretty cheap. Probably a prostitute."

"Forensics also found a condom wrapper and, uhm, a used condom on the car floor here... near the back seat," Buzz mentioned, looking away for a moment.

"Yeah," the M.E. agreed, straightening himself up. "I found traces of recent sexual activity on a female victim, but they don't appear consistent with rape. Sex was likely consentual." He leaned into the car again, taking the female victim's hands and holding them up for Carlton and Juliet to see closely. "One odd detail. The female victim also had this fresh, peculiar looking bruise, almost a cut, on her neck, right at her throat. It seems consistent with the blade. I also noticed this on inner side of her hands. Rope burns. No such thing on the male victim."

"There also appears to be some damage to the right back door," Carlton noted.

"So, the john and a prostitute are having sex on the back seat of his car, parked on a secluded location", she reasoned, the scene slowly playing out in her mind. "The doors are locked, of course. The killer is lying in wait near by, watching. Once the victims finish and are about to part ways, the killer sneaks up to the car, breaks in, grabs the prostitute, and puts a knife under her throat."

"The killer gives this woman the rope, forces her to bind the man's wrists, probably gag him too," Carlton continued as if on a cue, both of them now having a clear working theory about the murders. "The bigger threat is now secured. The killer then binds and gags the female victim."

"He tortures them both, for at least half an hour, then stabs them to death," Juliet concluded, suddenly feeling herself grow nauseated.

"All the while making them watch," Carlton added, letting out a heavy sigh. His gaze soon landed on the windshield-more specifically, smeared blood present on it. He frowned, walking over to the front of the car and taking a closer look.

"Smeared blood on the windshield... from the outside", Carlton noted, a disappointed look appearing on his face.

"Some blood splatters in the back of the car also appear to be smeared," she noted, looking away for a moment.

"He wrote another message," Carlton explained, stepping away. "In the victims' blood."

"But the rain washed it away," Juliet concluded, giving him a compassionate look. "Now we'll never know," she couldn't help but say, albeit silently, feeling a mixture of frustration, anger... and fear.

And then, like the most annoying thunder in the world, there was that familiar voice again. "Don't be so pessimistic, Juliet"," Shawn exclaimed while walking over to them, grinning widely. "Sure, who could blame you, given your partner, but still..."

"Gus finally dumped you, Spencer?" Carlton commented, noting that Shawn was alone.

"What's up, Lassie?" Shawn called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a wide smirk on his face. "Still bitter, I see."

Carlton gave him a disgusted look. "Show some respect, Spencer," he demanded, his eyes burning throuh Shawn's. "Two people are dead."

"Well, then it's too bad you nearly missed them last night, didn't you?" Shawn said in an unusually calm tone. Calm, yet clearly cruel.

"The heck you just said?" Carlton exclaimed, walking over to Shawn. Shawn flinched, but didn't back off.

"You patroled this area last night," Carlton explained, his tone of voice a bit more polite, but still pretty condescending. "Left just around midnight. Without searching this neighborhood, which was just around the block."

Carlton grimaced, glaring at Shawn. "Did the spirits tell you that?" he retorted, clenching his fists. "Or did you play with your little scanner last night?"

Shawn chuckled for a moment. "So, judging by your little outburst, it is true," he taunted, albeit taking a small but cautious step back. He was clearly gloating. Carlton was about to utter a twenty words long sentence that consisted almost entirely of swear words, but, to his surprise, before he could reply, Juliet stepped over, glaring at Shawn, and spoke up.

"For your information, Shawn, I worked with Carlton last night too," she pointed out, barely controlling her anger. "At least we tried something. What were you doing?" she pointed out more than asked, frowning at him, her face flushed. "And how come none of the "spirits" ever just, I don't know, tell you who murdered them?", she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. She had no idea where that came from, it wasn't directly linked to the current confrontation, but she felt she just had to say it, as soon as it popped up in her mind. Again. "Or at least provide a detailed description, if they don't know the killer's identity? Maybe even they can't stand communicating with you for longer than few minutes."

She turned around and walked away, heading toward the car. Carlton glared at baffled Shawn and was about to suggest something crude and anathomically impossible, but ultimately decided that Juliet's words were enough. He turned around and followed after her.

#

The ride back to the precinct started out as pretty calm, and quiet; not so much due to awkwardness, but due to exhaustion. They had two new murders to investigate, and they still had no leads. Eventually, Carlton decided to break the silence. "Nice... smackdown, by the way."

Juliet smiled. "Thank you. It felt..."

"Liberating?"

Juliet chuckled. "I guess." "But we still have two murders to investigate. And no leads."

"Buzzkill," Carlton teased her.

Juliet smiled, leaning back in her seat. "Well, that's a disturbing implication," she retorted.

"I have a theory though," she suddenly said, fondling her hands together.

"What kind of theory?", Carlton asked, already intrigued.

Juliet bit her lower lip, looking through the passenger side window. "The one that could, possibly, explain the locked room mystery. Nothing final, though."

"And we are desperate for leads," Carlton pointed out. "So you better share it with me. Now."

"Here's what we now," Juliet reasoned, frowning. "The mother, Bridget Watkins, arrives. All the doors and windows are locked, but she sees her daughter's dead body through the kitchen window. So she breaks the window and goes inside."

"Yes," Carlton agreed, nodding his head. "According to her statement, that's what happened."

Juliet continued, shifting in her seat. "She tries to help her daughter. Her daughter is unresponsive, there is no pulse, she isn't breathing. So Bridget goes out and rushes over to the neighbor's house."

"Exactly," Carlton confirmed. "Because he's a doctor."

"She knocks and knocks, but nobody answers."

"Because the doctor was on a vacation," Carlton explained.

"True," Juliet confirmed. "So Bridget returns to the house and stays at her daughter's side until the help arrives."

"Yes," Carlton repeated.

"The problem is that all the doors and windows were locked from the inside," Juliet explained, her face lighting up. "But we forgot about one window," she pointed out, suddenly feeling a thrill rush through her body. "The one that Bridget broke in order to get inside. That happened after the murder, but between finding her daughter's body and help arriving to that address, she did leave the house for at least a minute. What if the killer was still in the house when Bridget arrived?"

Carlton smiled. "Bridget breaks the window, goes inside, tries to help her daughter, calls 911..."

"Then goes over to the neighbor's house," Juliet continued.

"And, during that time, the killer escaped through the window that she broke in order to get inside!" Carlton realized.

"Shortly after the killer escaped, Bridget returns to the house and stays there until the ambulance and the police arrive," Juliet finished, sighing in relief, her explanation finally complete.

"And later, the killer returned to her house, looking for something... you interrupted him, he assaulted you and fled... But, once again, all the doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"But this time, the key didn't remain inside the lock. Maybe the killer stole an spare key the first time around, and used it the second time."

"But we found the house key and the spare keys. The one owned by Emily herself, and the one owned by her mother."

"Maybe Emily had more than one spare key in her house."

Carlton sighed, finally feeling some relief. Sure, it wasn't exactly something that would lead them to the killer... but at least they were able to explain one more strange thing about that case. Thanks to Juliet.

He smiled slightly, glancing at his partner. She was just looking through the passenger side window; probably proud at her conclusion. Once again, he thought how lucky he was to be working with her. She was smart, observant, friendly, honest, pretty...

Carlton frowned. Well, that was unexpected. Sure, he always knew that, it is not like he could deny that, but he would rarely think about that...

Why, though? Was there anything wrong with that? What was he concerned about?

Carlton sighed, shifting in his seat. It was probably that case. So mysterious and complicated, full of dark turns. Making him feel things he'd rarely feel, even when dealing with especially gruesome and complicated cases. A need to really reconsider certain things, take a long, hard look at his life. A need to take a break from it all, just for a while, pull Juliet closer, hug her tightly, and...

Carlton snapped back to attention, feeling heat rush up his face. He glanced at Juliet, like he was worried that she could somehow read his thoughts, or somehow sense what was he fantasizing about. Of course, she didn't seem to know. Or mind. He shook his head, switching his attention to traffic again. He was getting close to the precinct.

#

Carlton sighed as he observed the corpse laying on Woody's autopsy table. Autopsy on the second (well, chronologically, first) victim has been completed; and poor guy already had two more to perform.

"Once again, there isn't much to tell," Woody said, handing Carlton the autopsy report. "She was murdered about a week ago. Cause of death is extingunation due to multiple stab wounds over the chest and face. Lots of bruises and fractures, about a week old. She was viciously beaten before being killed. Signs of restraining on her wrists and mouth. No defensive wounds, nothing under her fingernails, no evidence of a sexual assault. Tox screens revealed some heroin, but nothing else."

"And the weapon used?" Carlton questioned, flipping through the autopsy report.

"Judging by the size and shape of the stab wounds, and this mark on her collarbone, a cerated hunting knife, its blade at least six inches long," Woody explained.

"And what was used to bind and gag her?" Carlton asked, looking up at Woody.

"I took the tissue samples. Some fibers were embedded into her skin. Probably a common polyester rope and a towel. Nothing special."

"Any moles, tattoos, distinctive marks, scars?" Carlton asked, taking a close look at the body.

Woody shook his head. "None, sorry. But I fingerprinted her, and took a DNA sample. Forensics are running those through AFIS and CODIS. Nothing so far."

"Yeah, I know", Carlton agreed, closing the autopsy report. He frowned, his eyes meeting Woody's. "Has Shawn dropped by?"

"Not yet, why?"

Carlton sighed, looking up. "Just curious. Thank you."

He quickly left the morgue, closing the door behind. Just when he was about to head to the workroom, he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Detective Lassiter?"

"Mrs. Watkins?" Carlton exclaimed, suddenly meeting face to face with Emily Watkins' mother again. "What are you doing here?", he asked carefully, surprised and worried at the same time.

"I... I might have remembered something that could help you with the investigation. I know you gave me your card and advised me to call you, but... I guess I figured I'd feel more comfortable speaking with you face to face..."

"Sure, no problem," Carlton assured her, giving her a compassionate look. He quickly walked over to the near by workroom, opening the door for Bridget. "Come in here, please."

"So... what did you remember?" he asked softly, pulling out his notepad.

Bridget sighed, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I didn't think much of it at first, but... well, about a week before Emily..." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Her voice was a bit lower when she spoke up again. "I called her. We were supposed to meet, but I had to work a little longer than usual... I ask her could she pick me up, but she said she loaned her car to a friend. That struck me as odd because, well, Emily didn't have many friends... I later asked her about it, but she just shrugged it off and said that it was nothing important... But now, thinking back at it... I don't know, it simply doesn't sound right. I know that that isn't much of a lead, and maybe I'm overthinking this, but I still thought you should know."

"It's OK," Carlton said, writing that information down. "We appreciate any new lead. We will talk to her coworkers again, have forensics process her car... maybe something will turn up."

Bridget nodded her head, looking down at the floor for a moment. "Thank you", she near whispered. "I really appreciate it."

Carlton remained silent for a few moments, a frown appearing on his face. He sighed and shifted in his seat before speaking up, his eyes slowly meeting Bridget's. "I have one more question for you, mrs. Watkins. It might sound odd, but... did Emily have more than one spare house key?"

Bridget sighed, biting a lower lip. After a few moments, her eyes widened, a look of realization washing over her face. "Actually, yes!" she exclaimed. "She kept one in a fake rock in her yard, and the other one in her nightstand, top drawer." She frowned. "Why are you asking me that? Is it missing?"

"We're not sure yet. But thank you for the information." He remained silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Have you considered... talking to someone?", he asked softly.

Bridget just stared back at him, like she didn't get his point. Carlton quickly elaborated. "A friend, a family member... maybe a therapist?" he suggested, looking her in the eyes.

Bridget sighed, a sad smile appearing on her lips for a moment. "What is there to say?" she exclaimed, her voice low and shaky again.

"Sometimes, merely telling what happened and how you currently feel is enough."

Bridget shuddered, looking away for a moment. "Once you catch Emily's killer... I want to be the first to know."

"And we will let you know that, as soon as possible", Carlton promised. "But that doesn't mean you have to constantly expect it, dwell on it... that isn't healthy."

"My daughter is dead", Bridget said, swallowing a lump in her throat. "You can't get over that, you can only... survive it."

"I'm sure she'd want you to be happy," Carlton tried.

"And I'm sure she never expected something like... that would happen to her," Bridget replied, a tear running down her face.

"I can't argue with that. But that is what happened, and she probably would have want you to move on eventually. And think of the good times. You can't change what happened to her. None of us can. But you don't have to think about it all the time. And you can get help if you feel you need it."

Bridget nodded her head. They both remained sitting there in silence for some time, deep in their thoughts, each pondering their own situation. Like each expected the other to say something more, but they both had nothing else to say.

Eventually, Bridget stood up and headed toward the door. Carlton walked her out. He looked after her for some time. Just as he turned around and started heading toward the workroom, he was approached by Juliet, who was holding a case file in her hand.

"Was that Emily Watkins' mother? Bridget?" Juliet asked, frowning.

"Yeah. She said she remembered that Emily borrowed her car to someone a few days prior to her death. Emily didn't reveal to whom though. I'm gonna have forensics process Emily's car and check GPS records, maybe something will turn up."

"Intetesting. She seemed really distraught," Juliet noted, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Understandably," Carlton commented, sighing.

"We got an ID on the second victim", Juliet informed him, handing him the case file. "Meaning the very first one, the one found in the alleyway. Finally a hit in AFIS. Kelly Anderson, thirty years old. Multiple arrests for solicitation and public intoxication. Still no ID on the most recent female victim."

"Nobody reported Kelly Anderson missing?", Carlton asked.

"No surviving family", Juliet explained solemnly. "Several known criminal associates, listed in her rapsheet, mostly other prostitutes and pimps, but they are all currently incarcerated on various charges."

"She was completely on her own", Carlton commented.

"That's devastating", Juliet whispered, sadness evident in her voice.

Their discussion was interrupted by Buzz McNab, who quickly approached them, a case file in his hand. "O'Hara, Lassiter... we have identified a possible suspect in the case", he informed them, an excited look on his face.

"Really?", Carlton exclaimed, finding that information surprising due to a lack of leads on pretty much all three cases.

"Yes", Buzz confirmed, nodding his head. "A baker who owns a minivan and has a prior criminal record, just like Spencer said."

Carlton's face fell as he remembered Shawn's "vision." "Wonderful."

"His name's Peter Bellinger," Buzz said, slightly confused by Carlton's remark.

"What do we have on him?", Juliet asked

Buzz gave her a surprised look. "He's a baker who owns a minivan and has a criminal record", he repeated, matter of factly.

"Other than him matching the profile that Spencer devised based on the ghost talk", Carlton explained. "Fingerprints, DNA, witnesses placing him at the scene... a parking ticket... anything?"

"Well... no", Buzz admitted. But we have no other suspects at the moment, so..."

"It is technically our duty to go question him", she pointed out, sounding a bit calmer. "And it would be much better if we arrived there before Spencer. And you know he will find out about this sooner or later."

Carlton considered her words for a moment, then simply said: "We better hurry."

#

After they rang the doorbell three times, to no avail, Carlton, Juliet and McNab entered Peter Bellinger's home, having recovered a spare key inside a fake rock. The house, to no one's surprise, was empty.

They made sure to search the place as quickly as possible, until Spencer showed up. They managed to pull that off, but the results were less than satisfying. Carlton slammed the bedroom door shut as he entered the hallway, meeting up with Juliet, who just went back to the house after talking to the neighbors. "Well, he's definitely gone", Carlton concluded, letting out a heavy sigh. "Most of his clothing appears to be missing from the closet, and I haven't found any documents, or much cash in here", he explained, taking another look around. "And his minivan isn't in the garage."

"His closest neighbors claim they haven't seen him in two days, they have no idea where he is," Juliet informed him, flipping through his notepad. "No security cameras near by. They weren't that close, clearly. I called his boss. He told me that Peter called in sick three days ago and still hasn't showed up."

"Damn, maybe the asshat was right," Carlton commented, gritting his teeth.

"Or not," Juliet countered, looking around. "I mean, I don't see any religious books here. Not even the Bible."

"He could have taken those with him," Carlton suggested.

"However, he did leave this nice set of kitchen knives here too," Juliet noted, looking around. "Not something you'd expect from a mad serial killer on the run."

"Well, to be fair, we know that the killer used a hunting knife on most of the victims, and the switchblade on Emily Watkins", Carlton couldn't help but point out. "Maybe he didn't need this. Saved himself the trouble."

Juliet sighed. "But still, this place looks so messy... I mean, it was messy even before we searched it. These killings, no matter how brutal, seem organized, methodical." She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe I just don't want to believe that Spencer's right."

"Neither do I. But as long as we base our conclusions on facts and evidence, I'd say that we have one up on him. That's what matters. You do know that you never had any obligation to believe him?" Carlton questioned. "In his supposed "gift", I mean. And it's a good thing to use critical thinking when it comes to such things. The same way we work on the cases."

"I know," Juliet confirmed, nodding her head. "I guess a part of me wanted to believe... for some reason. But now, I'm just tired of it. It just seems... obnoxious. And... impossible."

"Does that piss you off?" Carlton asked, his eyes meeting Juliet's.

Juliet sighed, shifting in place. "It's... jarring. Disappointing. Annoying."

Carlton glanced at the front door, then checked the time on his watch. "Our shift's almost over," he pointed out. "I'm sure Spencer will show up sooner or later. How about we release a BOLO on Peter Bellinger, just in case, and then go over the case files again? See if there's some sort of a clue in there."

"We can do it at home," Carlton suggested, rather abruptly. He flinched, like he just realized that he suggested something inappropriate, even though he wasn't sure what. "I mean... if you'd like it better that way."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I don't own any of the "Psych" characters and I am not making any money from writing this.**

 **Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.**

 **Once again, big thanks to Loafer! You're the best.**

 **And we've reached the end. Thank you so much for sticking with me. I apologize for such a long delay. I had a writer's block with this story... but I never gave up. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!**

Carlton frowned, taking a closer look at the crime scene photograph of the double murder before putting it back on the coffee table, next to the others. Juliet, sitting on the couch next to him, just finished reading the latest police report on the murders. She put it down on the table, sighing as she did. No leads there.

"The Bible verses, posing of the bodies... He's playing with us", Carlton stated.

"Well, he's crazy," Juliet commented, observing the crime scene photographs. "I mean, not crazy in criminally insane kind of way, he is good at covering his tracks. But certain things probably only make sense to him. In his head."

"Or immature," Carlton suggested. "He likes playing games. Taunting authorities."

"Heather Morgan and Justin Davis?" Juliet read, pulling out one of the notes from the case file. "Could these be possible suspects?"

Carlton sighed. "No, those are the names of those two teenagers we caught missing around last night. I checked their IDs. I later ran the license plate. And their names. Just in case. All clear. No convictions, no warrants."

They were both silent for a while, carefully observing the crime scene photographs and police reports, trying to find any clue that they might have missed. But nothing seemed to stand out. Though they did their best to focus, their mind began to wander. Finally, Juliet spoke up, saying what had been in her mind for quite some time.

"Remember how you told me you'd drag me along with you... on the end of days?", Juliet asked, looking up at him.

Carlton frowned, surprised by her question. "Of course I do."

Juliet raised up her eyebrows, smiling slightly. "Just me?"

"Who else?", Carlton replied, matter of factly. His face fell. "Please don't tell Shawn or Gus."

Juliet chuckled. "Your mom?"

Carlton sighed. "Let's not go down that road, please."

"Your sister?" Juliet suggested.

"We could pull her along," Carlton agreed.

"Chief Vick?"

"She's tough", Carlton said. "She'd pull through." He frowned, taking another look at the case files before looking up at Juliet. "Thank you for supporting my theory, by the way", he said, smiling slightly.

Juliet chuckled. "That the girl with multiple stab wounds over her chest and arms was murdered? Don't thank me. It made sense. As your theories usually do."

Carlton gave her a grateful smile. "Likewise."

Juliet frowned, folding her hands together. "It makes you think, you know?" she exclaimed. "For example... what are we really doing with our lives? Where are we going? What's the point? The meaning?"

"You think that is the message our killer is trying to send?" Carlton suggested, frowning.

Juliet groaned. "Please, let's stop working everything back to that psycho!" she exclaimed. "I'm just making small talk."

"A bit complex for small talk," Carlton commented.

Juliet smiled. "Thank you." She gave him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side. "So...?"

"Those weren't rhethorical questions?" Carlton replied. He almost sounded... playful.

Juliet chuckled, blushing slightly. "Are you teasing me?"

Carlton smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Yes, I guess it makes you wonder", he admitted, sounding relaxed and calm for a change. "But there probably aren't real, conclusive answers. Not most of the time, anyway."

"It is not about actual answers, though," Juliet explained, moving a bit closer to Carlton, their eyes locked. Carlton shuddered for a moment, but didn't object. "In my opinion, at least. Thinking about... reminiscing... Thinking about what really matters to you, in your life... about people in your life... who is the most important and why... what and who you should focus on..."

"What should you do, how you should proceed... what you really want in life..." Juliet mused, feeling herself shudder, warmth spreading through her chest.

"That's true, I have to admit," Carlton admitted, nodding his head.

"I'm glad to hear that," Juliet agreed, smiling warmly. "So... what conclusion have you reached, partner?" she mused, looking him in the eyes, her face barely an inch away from his, her warm breath stroking his skin.

They both remained silently for a few moments, their eyes locked. They both felt that they were getting close to something, that something big was happening, as innocent as their interaction might seem. A part of them wanted to promptly change the subject and put an end to it, fearing that the other party would shut down any... advances. And a part of them simply couldn't resist. They both enjoyed their game, as tricky as it might have been.

Carlton gulped, shifting in his seat. He tried to think of a calm, professional answer, but eventually, against his better instinctively, decided to to with an honest one. "It is pretty clear... don't you think?" he said, looking her in the eyes.

"I disagree," Juliet replied confidently, moving an inch closer to him. "Tell me. Or show me. Either way..."

Carlton sighed, trying to focus on the case again. But it became clear that wasn't going to succeed... if their interaction continued that way. "We... we shouldn't be doing this", he protested, doing his best to sound convincing.

"Why not?" Juliet replied, smiling slightly. The words came out before she could word them more carefully... not that she felt a particular desire too, though. "Do you really want to miss out on this? Who knows what tomorrow might bring. You agreed with me on that."

Carlton swallowed a lump in his throat, looking away for a moment. But he refused to back off. "Miss out on what, exactly?", he commented more than asked. It almost sounded like he was daring her... even taunting her, in a way.

In the next moment, she leaned over, and kissed him on the lips. Although initially surprised, Carlton reciprocated soon afterwards, feeling warmth rush through his body, his heart thundering against his chest. Their lips were pressed hard together, their warm breaths mixing. Carlton sighed as Juliet slid her tongue in between his lips, clearly smirking as she did. They both moaned as their tongues finally touched, thrir bodies flinching at the tender contact. For a while, that was all that mattered. No fear, no concerns, no regrets.

Carlton was the one to pull away. They both sighed as their lips parted, shuddering next to each other. Their eyes met, neither of them willing to pull away, but also hesitant to proceed, like the full realization only then dawned up on them, stopping then in their tracks. The question, as naive as it was, hanged in the air until finally spoke up, her words slicing through the tense silence.

"What are we doing?" Juliet exclaimed.

Carlton smiled. An ideal reply suddenly flashed in his mind and he couldn't resist using it. "What we should have done a long time ago."

Juliet grinned, blushing. "Smooth."

That time, Carlton was the one to kiss her back. They kissed longer. They both gasped once they finally pulled away, their eyes meeting almost instantly, their face flushed and their heart thundering.

"You are wonderful", Carlton said under his breath. "Smart, funny, beautiful... everything I ever wanted, everything I need. I know that it sounds cliche when I say it, but it's true. I also can't comprehend how are you able to put up with me, let alone cooperate, and that alone is a great quality. It is like working on this case, with you, really made me realize... you never know what might happen, so if you have feelings for someone, if you want to do something, just go ahead. And it also confirmed, once and for all, that there's no one I'd rather be with... no one but you."

"So, as cliche as this is going to sound, would it surprise you to learn that I feel exactly the same way about you?", Juliet asked softly.

"Yes", Carlton admitted, his smile widening.

Juliet chuckled, leaning into him. "I knew you'd say that", she stated before kissing him on the lips again. "But it's true. You understand me. And make me feel safe."

That time, Carlton was the one to pull away, albeit reluctantly. That last trace of concern in the back of his mind finally became clear. "We... we're partners", he pointed out, despite the overwhelming urge to shut up and continue kissing her. "I mean... colleagues, coworkers...", he whispered, hoping that Juliet had a convincing counter argument.

"I didn't forget that", Juliet calmly replied, looking him in the eyes. "Did you? Clearly not. What is the issue here? We're adults. We're professionals."

"I doubt chief Vick will be happy to hear", Carlton whispered, although he didn't sound that concerned.

Juliet smiled, leaning closer to him. "Give her a chance, she might surprise you", she suggested, smiling brightly. "I mean, if she can put up with Spencer... Let's not worry about that right now, please?"

"Well, we do have plenty of things to worry about...", Carlton couldn't help but comment, glancing at the case files on the near by table.

"Don't remind me of that, please", Carlton pleased, trying to push that unpleasant memory to the back of his mind.

"Yeah, like you never did that when you were their age", Juliet teased.

Carlton chuckled. "Not when there was a serial killer on the loose."

"They're teenagers", Juliet pointed out.

Carlton sighed. "But I still find it mind-boggling that neither of them knew."

Juliet shrugged. "Maybe they thought that would make it more exciting?"

Carlton frowned. "Serial killers often think the same."

Juliet gave him a questioning look. Carlton shifted in his seat, a look of realization appearing on his face. "That's what you pointed out, remember?" he reminded her. "That serial killers often return to the crime scene in order to relive the crime."

Juliet took another look at the case materials, now following that theory herself. "Spencer was right about one thing", she reasoned, deep in thought. The killer would need a vehicle to transport Kelly Anderson's body to that alleyway. Something big enough to transport the body, that would still fit in the area well... like a minivan or a Volvo."

"Emily Watkins didn't have much of a social life, but she volunteered at a local youth center," Carlton pointed out. "Lots of teenagers hanging around there. And Emily's mother remembered that Emily borrowed her car to someone shortly prior to her death."

"Wait, you think those kids we encountered in that lover's lane are the killers?" Juliet asked, sounding both surprised and intrigued.

"One of them is the killer", Carlton elaborated. "Probably Heather Morgan, since it's her car."

"But why?", Juliet wondered.

"I've got an idea," Carlton said, pulling out his phone. I have to admit, it is a bit far fetched... but if I'm right, it will answer that question. And it may even provide us with enough circumstancial evidence for a search warrant," he said, dialing the number.

Three rings. Then, an answer. A familiar, hostile voice. "What do you want?"

"It's detective Lassiter, ms Davis," Carlton said, pacing around the living room. "I hope you remember me."

"I didn't give you my number," Anne reminded him, frustration evident in her voice.

"You didn't have to," Carlton replied calmly.

"I've got nothing to say," Anne maintained.

"Listen first," Carlton demanded, sounding polite but determined. "Yesterday, when I and my partner questioned you, you told us a story. A pretty disturbing story. About a little girl and her abusive mother. Do you happen to remember the girl's name? Please, that is all we have to know."

"Of course. Her name was Heather Morgan."

#

Heather didn't seem especially worried once Carlton and Juliet walked into the interrogation room. She looked annoyed, at worst. But she wasn't being quiet about it. "So, what's the charge?", she asked. "If I'm actually arrested at all. What can you possibly have on me? I haven't done anything wrong."

"We obtained a search warrant, you know," Carlton informed her, sitting down at the table, opposite to her.

Heather flinched for a moment, but quickly regained her composture. "So quickly, huh?" she asked in a taunting, smug voice.

"People want leads. Answers," Carlton stated, opening the case file, revealing the forensic reports and crime scene photographs for Hearher to see. "And it looks like we hit the jackpot," he commented as he pulled out three photographs in particular, putting them on the table in front of Heather. "We found this hidden in your room, in an air vent. A hunting knife, matching to the wounds on three out of four victims. You did a good job cleaning it up. But not good enough. Our forensic techs recovered small traces of human blood on the blade and the handle. DNA analysis is in the progress, but I think we both know what it will show."

"Do we now?" Heather commented, smirking at him.

"We do," Juliet replied, contempt evident in her voice. "We also found this under the mattress on your bed. Ropes and towels, matching to the fibers recovered on three of your victims."

"My victims?" Heather questioned, frowning.

"Yes, your victims, Heather," Juliet maintained, her eyes burning into Heather's. "Stop pretending. And we also found a spare key to Emily Watkins' house hidden inside your car, under the arm rest."

"And we know about your mother," Carlton continued. "What she did to you. Anne told us. The social worker. You know, she's a priest now."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," Carlton repeated mockingly, nodding his head.

"You're dying to speak," Juliet noted, glaring at Heather. "To take credit. I can see that."

"There's no point denying anything now, anyway," Carlton pointed out, leaning back in his chair.

"They were whores," Heather said, every word dripping with disgust and anger. "The filth. Selling their bodies for money. Spreading cheap thrills and vices. And the guys screwing them weren't any better. The world's a better place without them."

"You'd tie them up," Carlton reasoned, clearly not impressed by her rant. "Torture them. Then stab them to death."

"That's still better than what they deserved," Heather claimed, gritting her teeth.

"But Emily Watkins didn't do anything wrong," Juliet pointed out.

"Your car probably broke down," Juliet reasoned, slowly playing out the odds and possibilities in her head. "But you couldn't wait. The need was too strong. Maybe you also figured that using different cars was a good forensic countermeasure. So you asked Emily, and she loaned you her car. You used it to pick up the first victim. And you tortured her, murdered her, and dumped her body in a field. Probably the same location where you met up with your boyfriend yesterday. To relive the crime. Anyway, after murdering her and dumping the body, you cleaned up the car and you returned it to Emily. You probably dumped the body in some field or a ditch. But when it remained undiscovered for a while, you were frustrated, bored. You wanted attention. So you transported it into that alleyway. William, a young homeless man suffering from schizophrenia, witnessed that event. Luckily, you didn't notice him, or he would have been killed too. In his delusional mind, you became the Devil, who ripped that poor woman apart. Not a bad judge of character, there."

Carlton took over from there, sharing the same conclusion. "Of course, you did that after murdering Emily. Because Emily must have found something in the car. Something that you missed. Something that worried her. Maybe those small traces of blood. But she didn't go to the police. She trusted you. She thought you were in trouble. She called you over to her house. Confronted you. She wanted to help you. And you killed her. You pulled out the switchblade and stabbed her to death."

"But only after karate-chopping her in the back of the neck, knocking her unconsciousness," Juliet added. "So she wouldn't fight back."

"Then you started searching her home. To make sure she didn't have anything else on you. But her mother arrived. You were probably in Emily's bedroom at the time. You lied in wait. When she left, you knew you had to flee, quickly. And you did. Through the window that her mother had broken, so nobody would see you. But you knew you had to return, to finish your search. So you took one of Emily's spare keys before fleeing."

"You returned to the house the next day, but we returned too," Juliet explained, glaring at her. "We had a little encounter in Emily's bedroom, remember? You jumped me."

Heather scoffed, eying Juliet. "Now, that just sounds dirty."

"Gave me quite a scare too, I have to admit. That's probably why you still haven't disposed of that spare key. You scheduled another visit, right? Maybe in a few days, once the dust settled, but before Emily's mother could take over the house?"

"After searching your room, we also found that dreadful pineapple-scented deodorant. It explains that disturbing scent present on the crime scenes. Too bad we didn't smell it when we first encountered you in that field. Probably due to all the sweat. And those dumpsters near by." Carlton frowned, looking Heather in the eyes. "I don't really get all those Bible verses, though," he admitted, sounding genuinely curious. "From "Revelations", no less. Are you really that... religious? Were you sending a message? Or did you just want to scare people?"

"Have I succeeded?" Heather taunted, her smugness back.

"Really now," Juliet countered. "What was the reason for that?"

Heather smiled; it almost appeared genuine. "I figured... if you do it enough times, the right way, it eventually becomes a God's will, and therefore justified."

#

Just when Carlton and Juliet returned upstairs, having finished booking Heather, they ran into Shawn, who was casually strolling around the precinct, a gellato in his hand. Carlton barely withheld a groan, but then he remembered that he finally had a one up on Shawn. He glanced at Juliet, who smirked.

"I see you're back, Spencey," Carlton commented. "Where were you while we were busy arresting and processing a serial killer?"

Shawn gulped, looking down at the floor for a moment. "I heard the news", he admitted. "I guess you finally caught a break, you two." He forced a smile, shifting in place. "And for your information, notorious Peter Bellinger has been tracked down and captured," Shawn said, trying to sound as proud and confident as possible. "Buzz just informed me. I believe my visions have led you to him. Not that I'm bragging or anything... just per usual."

"So, they tracked down an innocent man because of you?" Juliet retorted, smirking. "Impressive. Well, more like per usual."

"True, he is not guilty of those four murders or anything," Shawn admitted. "Big deal. But as it turned out, he was a dangerous criminal on the run."

"Really?", Carlton exclaimed. "What did he do?"

"He was setting up an unlicensed puppy farm in Florida," Shawn said, quite dramatically. "It was terrifying."

"Less terrifying than a police consultant claiming that the woman with multiple stab wounds over her chest and arms committed suicide, and not being fired on spot?"Carlton retorted, glaring at Spencer.

Shawn nodded his head, looking away for a moment. "Spirits can be confused. Unclear," he claimed, blushing slightly. "Emily Watkins had attempted suicide before. That was just a glitch in communication. A ghost typo, if you will. A spiritual autocorrect. An otherwordly deja vu..."

Juliet frowned, an idea flashing in her mind. She looked up at Shawn, trying to keep a straight face. "You know, come to think of it, Shawn... our perp kind of matches your deductions... I mean, visions."

"Oh, really?" Shawn exclaimed, clearly satisfied by her admission.

Juliet continued. "Yeah, I'm serious. You can see for yourself. She is in our holding cell. And yes, she's really into atheism, sexual liberation and all that, sp you may want to open with that. Those Bible verses were basically some sort of murder-satire, so to say."

Shawn just stared back at her for a while, clearly running the odds in his hand. Juliet fought the urge to roll her eye or burst into laughter. Or both. Eventually, Shawn took a step back. "I'm leaving now," he announced. "To nowhere in particular. Just because I'm bored," he said before turning around and making his way down the hallway, then practically sprinting downstairs.

Carlton and Juliet looked after him for some time, highly amused, before turning to face each other.

"If he talks to her for longer than five minutes, he'll be scarred for life," Juliet pointed out.

"That conversation won't last for five minutes," Carlton assured her.

#

It felt especially refreshing, almost liberating, to exit the workroom. With Heather now in custody and Shawn gone... somewhere, Carlton and Juliet moved to the near by workroom, putting the files away.

"So, I guess we solved this myster," Juliet exclaimed, finally sounding relieved.

"And there was a rational explanation after all," Carlton reminded her, smiling slightly as he closed the cabinet.

Juliet sighed. "If you can call that rational," she commented, a solemn look on her face. "I doubt that girl will ever be normal."

"If necessary, they'll wheel me to her parole hearing," Carlton promised.

Juliet leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Carlton returned the kiss, both of them shuddering at the warmth that rushed through their body. Carlton leahed into her as their tongues met. Juliet gasped as they finally pulled away.

"I guess something good came out of this after all," she mused.

Carlton smiled at her, her warm breath stroking his face. "Most definitely."

"This is a really strange world," Juliet observed.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Carlton asked.

Juliet sighed, her smile widening. "It depends on what you make of it."

"We will have to tell Vick sooner or later, you know," Carlton pointed out, moving away slightly. "I like to think she will be very understanding and supporting. But, as we both know..."

"I think we deserve some leniency for dealing with someone like Heather Morgan," Juliet said hopefully. "And Shawn. Plus, it would appear that good prevails after all."

The world was safe; with the two of them together at least. Apocalypse backed out. The life went on.

Until the next Halloween.


End file.
